Life Isn't Enough
by SeekingRedemption
Summary: What do you do when your best friend disappears? Hinted shounenai: SoraxCloud, SoraxRiku. T for later chapters. Credit to the real life narrator of Hell and Back here on FFN, whom I couldn't find.
1. Promise

Review Replies are posted as reviews.

**I**

Life Isn't Enough

Chapter One: Promise

**I**

I'd lived there for as far back as I can remember, there on the yellow beaches with the white sun in the sky and the green-blue water crawling about on the shore. A prismatic view, helped along by the silvery hair that flowed through the air as he moved, almost like a completely separate creature. I loved that hair, threading my fingers through it whenever I got the chance. So silky and almost girlish, falling nearly to his shoulders and sparkling a rainbow of colors when the sun hit it just right.

The day we met was a rainy one ten years ago when I was four, sheets of water pouring down on the road. Mom and I stopped for gas. It was always Mom and I—I don't remember my father at all, and I've learned not to ask what happened to him. We were just without him when we pulled up at the gas station, and that was the end of it. There was a purple car next to our dusky brown, and I looked at it in fascination from one of the middle seats of our van. Who in their right mind would buy a car that was _so_ purple?

Whoever it was seemed to be looking through the car window at me, hands pressed against the glass and their breath making a small oval of steam on the window. I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. They retreated into the car again, making me wonder what was different about their car. Maybe it was purple inside, too. That would be kinda weird.

The person I had seen slipped out of the car and pulled open the door to mine, his oblivious parents bantering back and forth over the type of gas and how much. "Hi," he said in a voice that was clearly male, sliding the door closed. His eyes were aquamarine, glittering mischievously, and his silver hair fell to just past his ears. It was odd to see someone with that color hair unless it was an old person.

I couldn't think for a moment. I was still a little surprised that he had the boldness to just jump out of his car and into mine. "Hi," I replied, blinking.

"What's your name?" He took the seat next to me.

"Sora." I hesitated. "What's yours?"

But he was busy already, trying out my name on the end of his tongue. "Soh-ra, Soraah, Syaora," he stated, twisting it into several different syllables. "I'm Riku," he answered finally. "Riku Yume."

"Why's your hair white?" I asked, feeling suddenly that I wanted to touch it.

"It's not white. It's silver."

"Why?"

" 'Cause."

His voice sounded a bit defensive now, so I decided not to press the issue. Instead, I reached out and rubbed a silver strand between my thumb and forefinger. "It's really soft."

"Yeah. Mom says that too." For some reason, he didn't seem to mind.

"Why's your car purple?"

" 'Cause it is," he told me, smiling. It was becoming a game. "Why's your hair so messy?"

" 'Cause," I replied, catching on and smiling as well. "Are you moving here?" I asked, noticing the stuff packed on top of and around his car.

"Nope. Decided to give our stuff a ride," he deadpanned, smirking.

I chose to ignore that. "Cool! Maybe we'll be in school together." After all, I needed a friend. I needed one very badly, at that.

I started to say something else—now I can't remember what it was—but then I looked up and saw Mom coming out of the store. "You better get back to your own car," I told him, slipping back to my seat and pulling on the seatbelt.

But he didn't move. His eyes glinted in a way I decided I didn't like. "Nah, I'll just ride with you," he decided. He slipped around the middle seats and sat down in the back, clicking the seat belt together and leaning down so that he couldn't be seen.

"But Riku—!"

"Hi, honey," Mom said above the repeated dinging of the car due to the open door. "Been okay?"

"Yeah, Mom." I hesitated, looking at my knees as if they would tell me the answer to life. I still don't have a good poker face now, and I know back then it was just terrible.

"Are you feeling okay, honey?"

"Yeah, Mom." I nodded, forcing myself to smile. She watched me for a moment, but then shrugged and started the van. My back pressed into the seat as the car jolted forward briefly before smoothly turning out onto the road. I couldn't think. My brain just wouldn't work. How was I supposed to explain Riku? And how was he feeling now—was he scared now that we were leaving the gas station and couldn't reach his parents? It was his own fault, but I didn't want to see him cry or anything.

"Kah—chu!"

Boy, Riku had a girly sneeze. Mom looked at me in the rearview mirror and I quickly wiped my nose, sniffing. "Are you coming down with a cold, Sora?" she asked, her eyes concerned.

"No. I'm okay."

"Okay, honey." But her voice rose and fell with doubt.

I looked up in time to see our house before we pulled into the driveway, and I knew Riku would be in all kinds of trouble. At least I wouldn't be. I hoped.

Mom got out of the car, closing the door behind her, and I slipped out of my seat, Riku following close behind. "You're gonna be in so much trouble," I warned him, opening the side door and jumping down.

"No I'm not."

There was a faint jingle as Mom searched for the right key, since she was standing at the front door with her back to us. We made it all the way to the middle of the front porch before she turned around and froze, looking like a ghost had just popped out of the ground. "Sora," she began in a voice that shook with anger as she approached. "What's going on? Who in the name of—"

At this point I broke in with the first thing that popped into my head. "Can I keep him, Mom?"

She looked stunned for a moment, and then suddenly began to laugh, bringing one hand to her face. "Sora, Sora, Sora," she murmured, shaking her head. "I'm still not sure what's going on, so I need answers, kid," she addressed Riku. "Do your parents know you're out here?"

"Yes," he replied smoothly, shooting me a knowing look.

I froze. "Bu—"

"Then I'll let you stay until eight. But only if your parents said it was all right."

"They did, ma'am." It alarmed me that Riku could lie this easily.

So we went inside and had hot cocoa and a grand old time right up until the police came and Riku and I both got into huge, steaming mounds of a certain kind of trouble. I got spanked, lost TV privileges for a month, and had to write "I will not kidnap other boys" about a thousand times because Mom used to be a teacher. Riku, as I soon found out, got off without much ado.

"It's happened before," he told me nonchalantly when we went out on the beach later and sat on the paopu tree, which was my usual hangout. "But last time I got caught before they drove away."

"Isn't it scary?" I asked him. "What if they drove away and didn't bring you back to your mom and dad?"

He made a disbelieving sound. "They wouldn't do that. Nobody does that."

"Yeah they do." By now I was balancing along the paopu tree, not paying as much attention to the conversation as to my balance. "I read about it on television."

Riku started to say something and stopped, apparently trying to figure out if that was possible. He forfeited the effort with a simple, "Well, it's not gonna happen to me."

"It could."

"It won't." He leaned back against the tree so that I almost stepped on his face. "I'm too cute."

I started laughing and fell off the tree, managing to hurt myself. He stared for a moment and started to laugh. At this time I was already at the point of tears, but his laughter only made me cry harder. "I'm sorry, Sora," he said, trying to stifle his mirth. "It was just so funny. You tilted a little, and then—" He broke off into guffaws.

Standing, I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand. "You're mean, Riku!" I protested, clenching my fists and frowning. "I hope somebody does take you away! I hope they take you far away, and never bring you back!"

And I ran away down the beach, still crying.

**I **

I was sorry, of course, but I didn't say so. I hadn't planned to, either. But when he came over with cookies and we talked and generally had fun, I guess we kind of forgave each other. Neither of us really said we were sorry, but we knew in our hearts that we were, and so we let it go.

Riku became the brother I never had. He slept over at my house almost every day of the week some months, and when I finally agreed to stay over at his house, he let me bring my night-light and we had a big battle against the darkness and its creations. That might be the most vivid memory I have of him, standing there looking so frail and weak, but waving the wooden sword around all the same and shouting, "Come on, you stupid dragon! Just try to take our light away—I'll beat you up so bad you won't know it!"

And I was curled up on the bed, laughing even though I wasn't sure if that made sense. He would join me then, and the bed wasn't a bed, it was a fort. Our fort. Our stronghold against the darkness. And Riku was mine—my light. It's a bit ironic to think about him like that, since he always seems so reclusive and almost gothic around other people. But he was the light that shone for me in the darkness.

Kairi came into our lives one November evening when I was studying for a test in fifth grade. She was my study partner, a pretty redhead with big purple eyes. Once I asked her why they were purple, and she got upset because people usually made fun of her. I got confused, though—I was expecting her to say, "Just 'cause."

To us, Kairi was a mystery that could never fully be explored. And she told me that Riku seemed so dark and mysterious to her, which threw me off because he always seemed so…Riku. Just Riku.

The thing that always threw me, though, was that Riku and his parents would, every other year, fly far away over an ocean to a city. There, they would meet with Aunt Muffy, his father's sister. I would receive post cards and calls and sometimes presents from Riku, but it wasn't the same as having him at home. Every year I worried. Maybe the plane would crash. Maybe they would get held up for days and decide to just live with Aunt Muffy instead of come home. Maybe they would get stuck in the terminal and have to survive off bread crumbs and mice.

As I got older, the concerns diminished somewhat. I was less worried about people getting stuck in terminals and more worried about plane crashes. I heard that a plane nearly crashed into one of the big buildings in the city once, and that just sent me over the edge. It was the picture of paralyzing terror to me. Before then, I hadn't even thought of something like _that_ happening, so I grabbed Riku and cried until I got them to cancel the trip that year.

Their return home was always a tremendous relief, so it was understandable that I was nervous today, the day Riku was leaving to go to Aunt Muffy's by himself. He'd already flown alone a few times now that Mr. Yume's job was demanding more of him and Mrs. Yume had complications with flying, but the thought still put me on edge.

So I found myself sitting on Riku's bed, looking at the usual tulip-decorated luggage and thinking about him being high up in the sky as usual. I mean, I knew he was taller than me, but this was ridiculous.

"Riku!" I shouted just to shout it. Where was he, anyway? I'd been waiting for him for about a half-hour already.

He entered from the hallway, dressed up in a red turtleneck (with the sleeves cut off, of course—Riku absolutely couldn't tolerate sleeves) and the tight black pants Kairi begged him to wear once. "Do I look good?" he asked in a lisp that was meant to sound as though he was gay.

"Riku," I groaned.

"Yeth I do. I look goooood." He posed in the mirror a bit, flicking his hair up so that it caught the light and glimmered softly in that rainbow of colors.

I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. "You better change into something else," I told him.

"Or what?" At least the lisp was gone.

"Or I'll attack you and bite off your nipples."

"Just like the beaver!" he remarked before approaching to go through his remaining wardrobe.

Sighing, I rolled my eyes. His light interest had moved on to near obsession.

"How's this?" he asked, showing me the yellow sleeveless shirt. His favorite, if I'm not mistaken.

"The pants, Riku, the pants!" I protested, covering my eyes and falling back onto the bed. "I can see stuff I don't want to."

"That'th the point." Great. Return of the lisp. But from the sound of it, he was slipping into something different.

When I looked up, he was wearing the black jeans that he usually wore with the blue poufy things. "They'd look kind of goofy at the airport," he admitted, holding them up. They flopped somewhat unattractively.

I gestured wordlessly to my usual red jumper.

"Your choice, not mine."

Making a dismissive noise, I waved a hand and looked toward the stairs. I was expecting Kairi to walk in any minute so she could be loud and annoying and try to corner me away from Riku. Fun, fun, fun. But that didn't happen and I reveled in my remaining moments alone with him.

"I can't wait to get started on Latin next year," he remarked, flipping through the booklet he'd received to prepare himself for it. "Mr. Katsuya is supposed to be a very good teacher, and I'll be able to somewhat understand about five different languages!"

I was a bit distracted at the time, busily working at a loose thread in his blanket. "Oh—what, the class?" I asked.

"Nope. The country." Riku flashed the victory signal. "Here's Your Sign."

Groaning, I leaned back on the bed. "You're mean."

"You are too. But I'm still gonna miss you."

Mr. Yume walked in right when Riku had seized me in a bear hug and lifted me off the floor, squirming and yelping. "Boys, settle down," he said more out of habit than anything else. Riku turned smoothly, depositing me on the floor by the biggest, baddest bag of luggage.

"That one's yours."

"You wish."

Meanwhile, Mrs. Yume had walked in like a puppy dog following its master, fussing over her husband even though he looked about as perfect as he could possibly get. She was a short woman, shorter than Riku, and round and a little squishy. I used to think of her as a marshmallow whenever I hugged her, but now her pinkish face was beginning to wrinkle and the blonde hair was white at the roots. She always smelled of the cream and mint cakes she used to make when Riku and I were younger; never too much mint like some of the store products, but just a light enough coating to be pleasant.

By contrast, Mr. Yume was tall, lean, and somewhat imposing. His hair had been gray for as far back as I could remember, but he had Riku's eyes and practiced gait. Riku's parents seemed almost like two cartoon characters to me, so out of proportion to one another but vibrant and in love all the same.

"Be nice to your aunt, dear," she said to Riku, fixing an invisible hair that had sprung out of place on Mr. Yume's head.

"I know, Mom."

"Mind your manners, look both ways before you cross the street, don't lose your plane ticket—"

"I know, Mom! I've been through this already," he reminded her, now a bit defensive at having to be treated like a kid.

She smiled at him, her eyes misty. "That's right," she replied in a soft voice, touching the silver strands lightly. "You've grown up already. I keep forgetting—it seems like just yesterday you were slipping into other people's cars."

"He still does," I put in, earning a harsh shove. I retaliated, and we were well on our way to a good old-fashioned brawl when his mom just had to get in the way. She shushed us with professional motherliness, honed through the fifteen years of raising Riku, and quickly pulled a comb through Riku's hair. While Riku and his father chatted about flight arrangements, Mrs. Yume, with nothing better to do, decided to tame my hair. I grimaced as she worked the comb through the prickly strands. If I hated anything about my appearance, it was the hair that simply refused to cooperate. Not only that, it stuck out in almost every direction imaginable (except down), and this moved people to hang things on the ends of the strands so that I turned into a walking Christmas tree. Riku, naturally, had invented and later patented the art of Sora-decorating.

"Baggage claim!" she said to Riku suddenly, turning on him and waving the comb like a weapon. A very pointy weapon. "You know what your baggage looks like, don't you?"

"Mom," Riku groaned, pointing to the tulip design.

"She's just worried, son," Mr. Yume added. "I mean you've got, what, your CD player, your Gameboy, your iPod, all of that in there. That stuff costs money, remember."

"I know, Dad," Riku replied in a quick, uncomfortable voice. He recognized the look his mother was giving him—it was The Look, the one that said, "Turn over all the valuable electronics. Now." He shot her an apologetic look, gesturing to the big bag next to me. "They're all wedged between my socks and the alarm clock," he told her, indicating that it would be a painstaking task to extricate them now.

Her eyes softened, since she apparently remembered that he would be gone for a month and would therefore miss all his precious video games and music. "All right then, dear. Just be careful with it, and don't you dare lose your luggage."

"I won't, Mom," he promised, leaning down so she could peck him on the cheek.

"In that case, we'd better get going," Mr. Yume told us, starting for the bags.

I leaned down and grabbed the one in front of me, forgetting that it was the biggest and the baddest. As I straightened, my arms started burning right away and my spine let out a squeak in protest. "Oof," I grunted, letting it slide back to the floor in the hope that it wouldn't crush my toes on the way down. "You'd better double check, Riku," I said to him in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "I think you forgot the kitchen sink."

"Hey, now, I could've packed the laptop, but I didn't," he pointed out, jabbing a thumb in the direction of his desk where said laptop was folded neatly and unplugged. "I was thinking of you and your skinny spine."

"Shut your face, Riku!" I rubbed my back, wincing a bit and looking at the laptop. It was a beautiful Dell he'd gotten for his birthday a couple months ago, with CD burner and DVD player. That and a lot of other stuff, but I wasn't sure what all of it was. "I'm getting it when you die," I stated flatly, reaching down to heft the bag again.

"Fine. Too bad I'm not gonna die."

Mr. Yume looked up just then, seeing me struggling with the huge bag. "Don't sprain anything, sport. I'll get that for you."

Now, see, it's very annoying to be called "sport." Especially since I'm not particularly good at sports. But I relinquished the bag to him anyway, knowing I would probably cause a major disaster and possible injury going down the stairs.

I grabbed my hoodie as we passed the coat rack, and Mrs. Yume stopped at the doorway, waiting for us to put away the bags before she embraced Riku. While I waited in the car, they exchanged their goodbyes and she stood up on tiptoe to kiss her husband.

Riku joined me, only he sat in the passenger seat instead of in the back with me, so I moved to where I could allow him the pleasure of having his seat kicked every so often. "I'm really gonna miss you, Riku," I told him even as we drove to the airport. "Kairi's gonna miss you, too, and Tidus and Wakka and probably Selphie. But I'm gonna miss you like hell."

"Language," Mr. Yume chided from the driver's seat.

"Sorry, sir," I apologized promptly, knowing that settled the situation with no blood shed. Not like when I was eight and stupid. "I'm gonna really, really, really miss you."

"I can't stay home, Sora."

"Aunt Muffy's getting old," Mr. Yume said to Riku, even though I knew he was talking to me indirectly. "This is probably the last time you'll get to see her. So you can look forward to him staying home, Sora."

I suddenly felt empty inside, as though I'd said something wrong. Mr. Yume had to know I didn't know his sister was getting on so far in years. But it was possible he had forgotten. "I-I'm sorry, sir," I told him sincerely. "I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

"It's all right, sport," he replied, glancing up at me once in the rearview mirror. "You just never know. Death gets us all at one time or another, and you don't know who's going to slip out of your life next. Once they do, it's never enough. You never said enough and you never did enough and you were just never close enough. Life isn't enough."

And I knew what he was talking about. My cousin, almost exactly my age at the time, had died one year just before Christmas. I can only remember us staring into the mirror once, remarking at our similarities. Him, with his blond, spiky hair that was so much like mine, and my cobalt blue eyes that were just a little less silvery. Once he was gone, it just wasn't enough. We didn't sit in front of that mirror for long enough.

There was a silence as the car continued down the road. It was the same car—exactly the same. Riku's parents hadn't yet changed it out, even though they were better off financially than most. But it was the purple car that I had first seen when we drove up to the gas station ten years ago. The inside was brownish, though, and that seemed to offset the purple just a bit, but I'd grown accustomed to it over the years.

We arrived at the airport and opened the doors, Mr. Yume clicking the keypad so that the trunk opened up. I pulled out one of the bags and it landed rather painfully on my foot, making me shout something that sounded vaguely profane. Even I'm not sure what exactly I said, but whatever it was brought Riku to my side. "Did you break anything?"

"No, I'm okay," I told him, shaking my foot out a bit. I'd half-expected him to burst out laughing or something, since he was right there when I made the dumb move of pulling too hard, and the situation was beginning to look funny even to me. But maybe he thought I'd get sensitive about it, and he didn't want to get me upset. After all, it's a bad idea to fracture bonds just before a long trip. Then I'd be worried sick and I wouldn't be able to call. I'd probably develop a medical condition, knowing me.

We stepped into the flurry of activity, waiting in line for a very long time before we dropped off the four bags to be checked. Riku slung the fifth over his shoulder while Mr. Yume made the final arrangements, and then we were free to wander about for two hours, even if Mr. Yume insisted that Riku be at the gate in thirty minutes.

I sat down on one of the seats lining a fountain near a coffee shop, gazing dully in the distance. I didn't want to be separated from Riku. Not after that dream—that vivid, frightening dream.

"Thirsty?" he asked me, walking into my line of vision. He looked very tall now, taller than I remembered, and his hair was gleaming softly in the lights so far above us. I took only a moment to notice this before I caught sight of the milkshake in his hand and grew eager.

He sat down next to me, the scent of the sea washing over me as he did. Riku always smelled like the sea, and faintly of paopu. Probably because he spent so much time sitting out there. As usual, he'd bought a jelly roll. About two years ago, he was addicted to the things. He wouldn't join me on the beach until he'd eaten one.

While I sipped on the milkshake, listening to the sounds of the harried flyers, I considered the dream further. "Riku," I said finally, and he turned to look at me, two aquamarine eyes shining with mild curiosity. "Remember the dream I told you about?"

"The one where your pancake was trying to eat you?"

"No!" I replied forcefully, strongly tempted to shove him. But that would put my precious milkshake in danger, so it was something I simply couldn't do. "The other one. The one with the doors." Doors that slammed shut with Riku behind them.

His face fell then, and he looked away, chewing thoughtfully on the jelly roll. A fragment of it had fallen and was suspended on his cheek, near the eyes that stared up into the lights as though seeking an answer from them. With all the light glinting throughout his eyes and hair, he looked almost like an angel. So different from that version in the dream.

"I'm worried," I confided finally. "That dream was just so real, and I don't want…I don't want anything to happen to you."

He was looking down by now, having wiped away the crumb, and wrapped his arms around one leg idlely. "It was just a dream," he reminded me, but it seemed like he was also trying to convince himself. "Only a dream. Nothing like that would ever _really_ happen, Sora. I'll be okay. I do this all the time."

I sighed, still anxious for some reason. The milkshake ran low and I pulled the top off, stirring it with the straw. Without completely realizing it, I leaned my head against Riku's shoulder, forcing the last few sips through the straw.

"It can't come out if you chew on the straw," he said then, even without glancing over.

Realizing this, I glanced at the end and saw that it was frayed from my habit. I always chewed on the straw when I got agitated. I really needed to stop that. " 'S empty," I told him. The empty paper cup made a hollow sound on the wall of the trashcan next to me.

"I'll be fine. I wish you wouldn't worry, Sora. Then you make me feel bad," he explained, looking into my eyes again.

I smiled quickly, the same awkward grin I turned on everyone no matter what. "Sorry, Riku. I'll try not to be so pessimistic."

"That's right. I need you optimistic, all the time!" he added, giving me a light punch to the shoulder.

I had planned to retort with something that would incite a brawl, but instead I ran my fingers lightly over one strand of his hair, relishing in the softness and the silk. It seemed like his hair was always perfect, even though I knew he only pulled a comb through it every morning and then generally left it up to fate. "People're gonna think weird thoughts," he warned me when I continued, not wanting to relent just yet. That caught me off guard and I quickly pulled away, feeling somewhat disappointed.

"Okay, son," Mr. Yume said as he approached us. "Time to get to the gate."

Riku glanced at the clock. "I'm gonna be sitting there for an hour and a half!" he complained. "Can't I stay with Sora for just a little longer?"

"They're likely to reschedule," his father replied. "From what I've heard, the plane's making an early return. I don't want you to miss your flight."

Sighing, Riku got to his feet and I followed, dread filling my stomach. I hated the prospect of driving back without Riku, going home to face a whole month without Riku, everything about leaving without him. "This is as far as we can go," Mr. Yume told him. "I didn't get gate passes this time, so you'll have to go the rest of the way on your own. You won't get lost, now, will you?"

"I know the way, Dad."

"All right, then. You're at Gate 15."

"Right."

"You're coming home on flight four-thirty-seven, nine-thirty P.M. sharp."

"Gotcha."

"Don't lose this ticket."

"Nope."

Mr. Yume nodded with his eyes sparkling with pride, giving Riku a fatherly pat on the back. "I'll see you in a month, son. Remember to call."

"I will."

Again, I had planned to say a quick goodbye and not get wrapped up in it, but I found myself with my arms locked around him, face buried in his chest. "I'm gonna miss you so much, Riku," I said, looking up into his eyes and blinking back tears. "You get back here safe, okay?"

"You know I will, Sora. Somebody's gotta take care of you." He smiled, resting a hand on my head, and his eyes softened in understanding. "I'm coming back," he said in a softer voice. "I promise."

He hugged me back and we parted, me feeling incomplete as though part of me had stayed with him. He started away, stopping once and waving. In that moment, the light from the window shone directly on him, burning that silhouette into my memory: hair shining, fingers delicately parted, and the usual smirk that I couldn't see but I knew was there. Then he was gone.


	2. Relationships

Review Replies are posted in reviews.

**II**

Life Isn't Enough

Chapter Two: Relationships

**II**

"We need to talk," Kairi told me over the phone.

But I wasn't listening to her. My mind was still stuck on Riku so high above me, so high that I could never jump up to reach him. He'd made it to Aunt Muffy's the day after we parted and called me that night, but he was coming home soon. It had been an eternity. Now, if only I could survive a week. I was mulling over the idea of sleeping through it all when Kairi sighed loudly, jerking me back to reality. "Huh?" I asked intelligently.

"Meet me at the park today, at noon." It wasn't a question, and it wasn't really a statement or command. It was a demand.

I was going to do the least intelligent thing I could have and protest, but she hung up with a quirky little, "See you there," and I was left to wonder and dread.

"Girls." Click.

Because the powers that be decreed it so, and otherwise because they generally don't like me, I found myself in the park a little after noon, wandering around in my blue jersey with my hands stuffed in my pockets and a lollipop in my mouth. I came upon Kairi sitting on the bench where I could usually find Riku, gazing at her watch with rapt attention. It was not a sight I expected, and I crunched down on the lollipop inadvertantly. Damn. Ruined a perfectly good lollipop.

I threw the stick away and spat out the pieces. Riku knew better than anyone that I absolutely refused to eat crushed lollipop. Kairi, on the other hand, didn't seem to have picked up on this specific detail, though, since she was staring at me now. Or rather, at the trash can. "_That_ is disgusting," she stated in a tone that left no room for argument.

Fine. I didn't feel much like arguing. "What's up, Kairi?"

"You're ten minutes late," she told me, pointing to her watch. "Eleven, now."

There was a set time? "But I'm here already!"

" 'Already' is a bit of a stretch. I told you to come at noon," she reminded me, eyes narrowing.

All right. She was getting on my nerves. "Look, I'm here, aren't I? Can we just talk now?"

Kairi slipped to one side to make room. She had the violet purse that had recently become one of her usual ornaments, but she was clearly just back from a workout. Her short scarlet hair was damp with sweat and she was wearing her pink jogging suit. Most girls wouldn't be caught dead looking like that in public, but Kairi's cool like that.

"I wanted to talk to you about, you know, us," she said then, not meeting my eyes. "Like, where's our relationship going, what're we doing here?"

Us? We were an "us" now? This was new. I had probably been missing hints and nudges for a while, knowing me. And knowing Kairi. Why do girls always have to be so subtle? "Uh…I don't know," I said carefully, making absolutely sure that those words didn't carry a hidden bomb that would explode in my face. "I guess I need to think it over."

She brightened at that. "All right, then. I'll do that, too. I guess I'm not sure myself." She stood, pushing her hair behind her ear as she did so. "I'll talk to you later. I've got a five o'clock stretch session."

I watched her jog away, dreading again. She knew already, of course. They always know. That's what I learned from television. But girls don't give us guys enough credit—we see it, yeah, we know when they're onto us. It's just that we figure, if she wants something to happen, she'll make it happen. Not us. Fortunately enough for me, I had grown to recognize this through the wonder of television.

Not that I chose to do anything about it.

The truth was, I frankly couldn't see myself in a relationship with Kairi. She was so dramatically different from me that I was amazed we even had a friendship. Where I liked to fool around with Riku and enjoy such things as candy and ice cream, she preferred to look through fashion magazines, hang out with her identical friends, and eat all sorts of veggies because "they're good for you." I guess we must have been more alike in the fifth grade.

**II**

Mom was cooking when I got home, phone cradled on her shoulder while she stirred. She looked up once and smiled at me, mouthing "Hi, honey." She was growing older now, too, and was now dying her hair to a shiny black where it used to be red before. After having me, her slim figure had rounded out a bit, but not as much as Mrs. Yume's. Her face was growing older and tired, but she was aging well. Most of the wrinkles were only smile lines that seemed almost to disappear whenever she beamed in that infectious smile she'd passed on to me.

I waved hello and went to my room, pulling off the jersey and tossing it onto the chair with a few clothes I'd conveniently forgotten to hang up. Stepping over a pile of stuff I didn't really recognize, I flopped onto my bed and picked up the phone absent-mindedly, preparing to dial Riku. But I stopped dead when I heard voices on the line, recalling for the first time that Mom had been talking on the phone.

"…but, Ms. Hikari, I'm afraid you're only falling deeper and deeper into debt. If you don't start paying your bills soon, we might have to see each other in court."

At first I was going to hang up immediately, but when I heard that I clutched the reciever in a death grip, listening and hardly daring to breath in case Mom heard.

There was a silence on the other end with the exception of the faint sound of stirring, and then Mom spoke in a soft tone. "It's only temporary. A few things have come up. I'll be getting money soon."

"I suggest that you get help from one of the debt support agencies. This is growing serious, Mrs. Hikari. You could lose everything."

"I don't need help," she retorted sharply, and I recognized the spark of determination in her voice. Mom had always told me she would never take help from anyone because she could raise me on her own, as an independent single mother. And I believed her then. But now, if there were people calling us to collect, why couldn't she just own up and get help?

The man on the other end sighed. "I'm only trying to help. You have children, don't you? You're going to need to send them to college, but unless you get some of these things sorted out, you're not going to be able to do that."

"You don't know the first thing about my son," Mom replied. "He's going to college, I promise you that."

There was a click, and I quickly hung up the phone before Mom realized I was listening. It was mind-boggling. Here I was, thinking everything was okay. I knew we couldn't afford a lot of stuff, but I didn't know we were drowning even as I woke up and went to school only to mess around. If I was going to go to college, I had to fix my grades quickly so I could get a scholarship.

But right now I needed someone to talk to. The secret was hovering on my lips, and I needed to tell it to someone before it found its way to the wrong ears. So I dialed Riku and waited for him to pick up the phone. It rang three times, and then I heard Aunt Muffy's voice come over on the answering machine. I frowned, feeling fear leap up in my throat. Had something happened?

There was a click. "Nice time to call a guy."

"Huh? What's going on?"

"Nothing, it's just too early."

Oh, right, I remembered, hitting myself in the forehead. Time zones. "Sorry."

"No big. I'm a little cranky because I've been sick."

"Are you okay?"

"Yep. Couldn't be better."

I blinked in confusion for a moment before I realized Riku had pulled a Here's Your Sign. "You're not dying or anything, are you?" I repeated after a groan. My nerves were beginning to wither.

"No, minor case of nausea. Aunt Muffy's been treating me like an atom bomb."

"Riku?" I heard faintly in the background. "…sure you're…not feeling bad…are you?"

"She'll want me to get off the phone—it's okay, I'm just talking to Sora," he explained louder, his voice slightly muffled by a hand over the mouthpiece. There was a pause. "I'm talking to Sora," he repeated even louder. Aunt Muffy was a bit hard of hearing. "Geez," he muttered when he got back to me. "Sorry 'bout that. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," I replied a bit stiffly. He was sick—I couldn't tell him about the debt. That would only make things worse. "Kairi wanted to talk to me today."

"Oh?"

"She wants to know where our relationship is going."

Riku let out a whoop. "Sora's got a girl! What'd you say?"

"I said I needed to think about it."

"You _idiot_! You should've just said yes."

"Yeah, well…" I shrugged for some reason, even though I knew he couldn't see it. "I don't think she's really my type. That and I don't really want her…to mess up our friendship or anything."

There was a silence, and then Riku let out a laugh that sounded faintly self-mocking. "You don't have to worry about me, Sora. I don't mind if you get a girlfriend. Really. I'm happy for you."

His words sounded genuine, but I also knew Riku was a slick liar. "But I…" I stopped there. I don't really know what I was going to say, but I suddenly ran out of words and couldn't say it.

"Yes?" Riku's voice was slightly eager.

Mom called for me to hang up because she was expecting a call. "One more minute," I called back. "Listen, Riku," I said then, suddenly needing very badly to tell him. "Mom hasn't been telling me, but I just listened in on her conversation, and apparently we're in debt and she might not be able to send me to college. We might…we might lose everything," I added, the words sinking in even as I said them.

Riku didn't reply for a moment, but when he did, it was in a reassuring tone. "It'll be okay, Sora. I'll tell my folks when I get back, and we'll help you get back on your feet. You better think twice if you think I'm not gonna help you get to college—we're gonna be roommates, remember?"

I smiled, recalling the promise from last year when we started high school together. "Yeah. Okay." From the moment I heard the words out of him, I knew everything was going to be okay and I didn't have to worry about a thing. Riku always took care of it. Just a week now.


	3. Phone Call

Review Replies are posted as reviews.

**III**

Life Isn't Enough

Chapter Three: Phone Call

**III**

The week went by so slowly that I often found myself staring at the ceiling in my pajamas, hoping to sleep for the next forty-eight hours. Kairi, who seemed to have been avoiding me, met up with me by the mall in order to shop for a few hours. During that time, I remembered Riku's words and agreed to become her boyfriend, finding only subtle pleasure in her squeal of excitement and the throttling she called a hug.

Having made our relationship official, we spent our first moments of "togetherness" wandering through the mall and visiting all manner of store. Unlike most girls, Kairi was open to perusing my favorite stores in addition to her own, and we didn't buy only clothes and makeup. A future with her looked brighter, and I knew Riku would be happy to hear it.

"How is she, anyway?" he asked later that night when I was sprawled across my bed, phone glued to my ear. I still remember that night clearly, so clearly it seems like it was only yesterday that it happened. His voice was so close, even with the slight static and muffling, and I could almost imagine him next to me, propped up on one arm and smirking at me. His eyes would sparkle in that uniquely Riku way as we discussed Kairi and video games and the high score I had before he utterly killed it. When I closed my eyes, the image was so real that I thought I could reach out and touch him. I even knew what he'd feel like.

"Sora!"

"Wha—? Sorry, Riku. What were you saying?"

"I asked you about Kairi. Is she doing okay? Not still upset about the little mishap in January?"

I smiled as I recalled the "mishap" that had been a calculated maneuver resulting in Kairi nearly gluing her underwear on. Fortunately, she'd figured it out when it got stuck on her leg and had stormed to Riku's house in a towel, screaming, rolling pin in her hand and murder in her eyes. Thus the unsightly bruise on Riku's forehead that hadn't gone away for quite some time. "I think she's forgotten all about it," I lied. It would be funny to see him come home expecting her to act natural. "When are you coming home, Riku?"

His laugh was a relief, seeming almost to erase the expanse of ocean between us. "Tomorrow, Sora. I already told you that."

"That's too long," I groaned, turning over and burying my face in the pillow. He was laughing again, and I grinned into the fabric, listening to the consoling words. They didn't have much effect—he was still very far away, and I was still worried, but at least there was only a day left. Only one.

"I'll be thinking of you," he said more quietly, a strange tenderness in his voice. "Bye."

"Bye. See you tomorrow."

Click.

**III**

It was difficult to sleep that night, and I'm still not sure how I managed it. I kept imagining the moment when Riku arrived and we could all go home for the last week of summer. Sure, school looming in the near future didn't look bright, but at least I had Kairi and Riku.

I had a dream that night, but I didn't recall it completely that morning. The only thing I could remember was waking up while saying, "Okay," and whispering it with some sort of reverence. For a while I frowned up at the ceiling, trying to puzzle it out, but the dream lingered temptingly on the edges of my consciousness, slyly slipping away just before I could fully remember it.

Then it dawned on me. Riku was arriving at the airport today, having left at nine thirty yesterday. Feeling ecstasy put a smile on my face, I bounded out of bed and down the stairs, shouting to Mom that I'd be at Riku's. "All right, honey," she replied from the kitchen. "Just don't stay too long, or I'll worry about you."

The morning breeze brushed against my face, bringing me further into awareness, and ruffled the white shirt and denim shorts I'd pulled on in the record timing of less than a minute. Usually I took longer because I stopped to doodle or talk to Riku.

I ran down the sidewalk, sandals slapping against the concrete, and stopped at the large house at the end of the block. Stifling my impatience in the interest of courtesy, I rang the bell and waited, scratching the back of my leg with one sandal. Mr. Yume answered with his tie slightly tilted, so at first I thought someone had died before I realized it was just morning and Riku's parents had not yet collected themselves.

"Sorry, dear, don't mind the mess," Mrs. Yume told me, gesturing to a slightly wrinkled dishtowel. The Yumes lived in a state of constant perfection. She was just finishing up, an apron thrown over the flowery yellow dress she'd picked out. After all, this time she was coming with us to the airport. It was apparent that she regretted not going last time.

I sat down with Mr. Yume while he sipped at his coffee, devoting one eye to the paper and keeping the other on me. He hadn't yet put in his contacts, so the aquamarine was rimmed with a subtle gold color and an impressive shine. Mrs. Yume could be heard humming in the background as I chatted innocently about school and Riku and the news and Riku and the weather and gee, why don't we go get Riku?

"He's not due at the airport for another…" Mr. Yume glanced at his watch. "Five minutes." Just as he said so, I heard the phone ring in the background. Mrs. Yume wiped her hands on the dishtowel in transit and quickly picked up the receiver.

"Five minutes?" I repeated, as he knew I would. "We need to be there!"

He sat back, having clearly decided to let my false distress run its course, and then laughed in a way similar to Riku. "We'll be on our way soon, Sora. Once everyone's ready."

This directed my eyes to Mrs. Yume hopefully, but my heart leapt up in my throat when I saw her usually pink face so white. She turned a helpless expression on me, and then on her husband, and let out a small, heartbroken sound. In what seemed to be slow motion, the phone slipped from her hand and clattered against the floor.


	4. Riku

Review Replies are posted as a review.

**IV**

Life Isn't Enough

Chapter Four: Riku

**IV**

Mr. Yume sprang to action, seizing his wife in his arms before she fell and escorting her to a seat before picking up the phone. I had half-risen, planning to seize up the receiver, but I sat again when I saw that he had it, my heart beating painfully in my ears.

"Hello?" There was a pause as Riku's father listened to the person on the other line. He seemed to shrink before me, becoming old and tired before my eyes. One shaking hand passed over his face, fingers pressing against his temples. "I see. Very well, we'll give the photographs to the local police department and have them sent straightaway." Pause. "Yes. Thank you. Goodbye." Click.

"What is it?" I asked, unable to keep the question from bursting out any longer. "What happened?"

But Mr. Yume couldn't answer right away, since Mrs. Yume seized hold of him just then, sobbing into his shoulder. "I'll tell you in a moment, Sora," he told me, his eyes distant behind the spectacles. "Come on, Sakura, let's go upstairs."

I watched them go, dying to follow and hear what it was. It was about Riku. I knew that much. And anything that concerned Riku concerned me, so I wanted to know. I needed to know.

After an eternity of muted sobbing and words exchanged in the master bedroom, Mr. Yume finally made his way down the stairs to me. He motioned for me to sit, and then sat across from me, steepling his fingers and staring at them as though he'd never seen them before. "Sora, what I'm about to tell you isn't easy to say. But there's no real way to soften the blow, so I might as well just—"

"He's dead, isn't he?" I broke in, feeling the tears starting in my eyes. "Riku. He's dead." Why? Why him? Not Riku! Riku wouldn't…Riku couldn't…

But Mr. Yume shook his head, his eyes growing misty behind the glasses. "Not dead. Missing. He never made it to the airport."

Hearing that, I thought it was the best news he could've given me. "If he's missing they'll find him, right?" I asked, my spirits lifting. "You know Riku, he's probably just gone and jumped into someone's car. They'll find him by tomorrow, and then we'll just have to wait another day for him to fly over." I knew I was only trying to make things look better to us both, but I said it anyway.

Mr. Yume was smiling sadly, his shoulders collapsed in what seemed to be defeat. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Sora. The police have reason to believe it was a kidnapping—they found his luggage in a dumpster a few blocks away from the airport."

I couldn't imagine it. All that tulip-decorated baggage, stained with banana peels and the general sludge of a dumpster. And off to the side, a nameless man forces Riku into a car and drives away, just like I said. Just like I shouted at him ten years ago—someone to take him away and never bring him back. Feeling a surge of guilt, I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears and rested my face on my arms. Not Riku. Please, not Riku. Anybody but Riku.

"If it's a kidnapping, they'll want one of two things. Either a ransom, or…" Mr. Yume crossed his arms over his chest, as if for protection, and looked at the wall in silence.

Or just to kill him? Was there someone who would do that? Someone who would kill Riku—_Riku_—just for a thrill? It was too much for my mind to comprehend. "No," I said forcefully, lifting my head up. "He's alive. Riku's alive out there, somewhere, and he's going to come home."

The sad smile returned, and Mr. Yume took my hand comfortingly. "That's what we're hoping."

**IV**

Kairi started crying the moment I told her, and Tidus, Wakka, and Selphie all looked somber. I heard Selphie's sniff as I held Kairi in my arms, patting her hair consolingly. "It'll be okay," I told her, forcing that grin onto my face. "He'll come back here. You know Riku—wild horses couldn't stop him."

She pulled away, wiping her eyes and smiling faintly. "Yeah. I know. I'm just so worried for him."

"Yo, we can't give up this fast, guys," Wakka broke in, punching his hand forcefully. "Riku's no pushover, and all of us know that. We gotta hold out, yah?"

"You're right," Tidus added, also looking determined. "He's still out there. We can count on Riku—he's coming home."

When I finally returned to my house, Mom had just hung up the phone and was beginning to break down. "I'm sorry, Sora," she said to me, seizing me in her embrace when I walked through the door. "I'm so sorry."

I looked up at her eyes, glimmering with the tears that I hadn't yet shed. It felt as though I'd swallowed something hollow, leaving an empty space in my chest, and a lump rose up in my throat. "It'll be okay," I said, my voice breaking. How many times had Riku spoken those words to me? How many times had I heard the very slight lilt to his voice when he said the word "okay?" "It'll…he'll come back. He's n-not dead. I-I know it." My shoulders shook and I felt two twin tears slip past my defenses, sliding down my cheeks as my face wrinkled with pain.

Mom tipped my face up to hers, wiping away one of my tears with her thumb. "That's right, Sor. You keep up your spirits. You can be a beacon of hope for everyone else, because he's coming back. Don't let them beat you down."

A dam broke then and I grabbed her tight, crying my heart and soul out into her shoulder. Riku was gone. My Riku. And, no matter what I said, I didn't know if he was still alive.

**IV**

I stayed holed up in my room for two days, watching the phone with an ever-present feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. My hair grew even messier, and my face was always damp and smelled of tears. I was expecting a call—hopefully from Riku, saying that he'd run off and it was all a prank and he was okay now at the airport. Then I could give him several solid blows so he'd never do it again. Or I might get the ransom call—maybe Riku would give the kidnapper my phone number, and they'd ask for a million dollars and we'd give it to them and Riku would get home safe. The other option was the call from Riku's parents to tell me they'd heard Riku was dead, but I kept that call out of my mind. He wasn't dead and he wasn't going to be dead. I refused to even think it.

Mr. Yume told his boss and traded in his vacation so he and Mrs. Yume could fly to the city in search of Riku. I wanted to come too, but they didn't really want me along and I knew Mom couldn't afford the ticket. At first I had been starry eyed, imagining myself running behind the dumpster and catching the creep single-handedly so I could sit with Riku and tell him all about it. But when I found out I couldn't go, instead I imagined the moment when Mom drove me to the airport to meet the family coming back with Riku. He'd be a little roughed up, of course, and maybe even traumatized, but I could help him through it.

So I found myself sitting on Riku's bed again, pulling absently at the same thread and thinking of him. Mr. and Mrs. Yume were rushing about and getting ready, pulling bags down the stairs and wolfing down food and occasionally halting in order to dismiss a moment of deep emotion.

I lay down on the bed, which still smelled of Riku even with the three-week separation. A few things had been thrown about in preparation of his departure, but they hadn't been cleaned up yet because Riku was responsible for his own room, according to his parents. I was tempted then to put the things away, but I didn't want to touch them. It seemed to be violating something sacred by doing so.

The blue poufy things that I still lacked a name for were lying in the corner near his desk, collapsed and dead like a deflated balloon. I could remember the day Riku brought them home, his cheeks flushed with pride at keeping up with the fashion that would last no more than a week. I told him so, of course, but he didn't listen, so they became his pride and joy for that one week before the fashion ran out and he kept them out of necessity. We found every use for the poufy openings, from parachutes to sandbags. The parachute idea failed miserably and I almost broke an arm, but the things themselves became Riku's personal carriers. He had every imaginable necessity buried somewhere under a pile of stuff in there.

That's what I remembered when I slipped off the bed and pressed the navy blue cloth to my face. Riku sitting on the paopu tree in these. Riku running down the beach and calling my name, a new trinket banging against his leg in between these and his black jeans. Riku, Riku, Riku. A dry sob escaped me and I was crying, my tears soaking the material to a darker tinge. I didn't hear it when Mrs. Yume walked in, but I felt her arms around me when she knelt next to me and we cried together. Why couldn't they just _find_ him?

**IV**

But they didn't. The week ran out and I had to go to school without Riku for the first time I could remember. Of course, there had been that time he had to be out for almost a week due to chicken pox, but I made _that_ an occasion he would never forget.

Kairi took up Riku's usual position at my side. She was a year younger than the both of us and a freshman this year, but she still managed to find me at lunch and during our electives together. "They'll get that creep," she said to me one lunch hour, stabbing her potato a bit maliciously. "They'll get him and they'll throw him in jail, and he'll get ass-raped and everything. Because Riku was a boy, and you know how they don't take well to people who harm children."

I looked up at her, my heart skipping a beat. "Was?"

She blinked at me for a moment. "I mean 'is,' Sora. He's only a boy."

"He's not dead," I repeated. It was a mantra I'd started telling myself whenever I fell into doubt, because I knew he wasn't. He couldn't be.

There was pain in her violet eyes, and she sighed with sad patience. "Sora—"

"He's not!" I slammed the fork down on the tray and left, storming across the lunchroom to put it away. I didn't see the hurt look she shot me, but I didn't worry much about it, the doors swinging shut behind me as I left for class.

Class just happened to be Creative Writing, which I attended without Kairi, and I sat in the back with the empty seat that Riku was supposed to occupy. Ms. Nakamura was flipping through her materials just as the bell rang, but she stopped abruptly and turned her milky brown eyes on all of us. "It was my intention to begin the study on plot development and character analysis, but I believe we have a far more interesting detail among us. Fiction hinges primarily on emotion, on the sort of feeling you want to convey to your readers. And there is no better way to express that emotion through words than to first experience it yourself." She took a step forward and gestured. "Sora Hikari, would you stand please?"

Feeling a strange numbness in my mind, I did so, keeping one hand on the desk for support. "Yes ma'am?"

"I understand that you have recently lost a friend of yours, a very close friend, and I'm very sorry to hear that."

I nodded stiffly. "Only I haven't lost him, Ms. Nakamura. He's only missing, and we're going to find him." There was a sort of flame in my voice now when I discussed Riku.

She cast me a sad gaze over the top of her miniscule spectacles, reminding me a bit of Mr. Yume. "Yes, I know. This incident must be very taxing for you. I would suggest that, maybe once you've had a chance to absorb what's happened completely, you may want to write about it. I'm sure you'll find it to be a very cathartic experience."

But what would I write? Was I just supposed to say how much I missed Riku, how worried I was, how much I wanted him to be found? Because that's all I felt. "But he's not—"

By now she'd made it to my desk and set one hand on my shoulder, making me feel suddenly as though I wanted to cry. "I would like you to see me after class, Sora," she told me in a lower tone, her eyes still soft and comforting. "I know this is hard. Very hard." And I understood, seeing the tears that threatened to come to her eyes. Mrs. Nakamura had had this happen too, perhaps once upon a time so long ago.

"Now, class," she continued, marching to the front again and waving about her pointer authoritatively, "the use of emotion isn't just the acknowledgment of an emotion's existence. You cannot simply say, 'He was sad,' or 'He was bored.' Make your reader feel the sadness or the boredom. If he's bored, make him so bored he's ready to beat his brains out with a rock. If he's sad, make the readers feel that sadness as if they were the ones in his situation."

While I knew she'd probably done it for the best, Ms. Nakamura hadn't made things much better. I felt singled out, the sole reciever of this treatment, in the stead of the more unified feel of a class address. But all the same, she had introduced herself as someone I could go to. Someone who understood what this was like, even if she could never comprehend the relationship I had with Riku.

I met her at her desk afterwards, feeling slightly apprehensive. I wanted school to hurry up and end so I could go home and check to see whether I'd missed any calls pertaining to Riku, or if Mr. Yume had emailed me to tell me they'd found him.

"I know that the next few weeks, or years, even, will be difficult," Ms. Nakamura continued, taking off her spectacles and casting me a level gaze. He's not dead, I thought. He's not dead and she doesn't know but that doesn't matter because _he's not dead_, no matter what everyone else thinks. "So, if you ever feel overwhelmed, or that you need to step out of class, I want you to let me know, because I understand and I can help. And here…" She pulled out a notebook, one that looked somewhat older and more tattered than most of the others on the shelf. "The journey to become a writer is one not of developing skill, but of self-discovery. This notebook lent me solace many years ago, and I'm hoping it just might do the same for you."

It sat there lifelessly in my hands, a dead weight that felt leathery like an old man's face. "What do I do with it?" I asked, holding it awkwardly as though I didn't know how.

"Write in it," she replied, her eyes growing intense. "Write everything you feel. Then come back to it later, and you'll understand yourself that much better."

I still wasn't sure I understood, but I nodded as if I did and put it in my bag with the rest. "Thank you, ma'am," I said quickly, and rushed out of class.


	5. The Notebook

Review Replies are posted as reviews.

**V**

Life Isn't Enough

Chapter Five: The Notebook

**V**

There were no messages from the Yumes, so I was left to sit at my desk in my room, puzzling over math homework detachedly. I ended up pushing it away and staring out the window, having several daydreams of Riku running scared to the door and ringing the doorbell. I would leap up and run to the door, opening it long enough for him to slip through and then I'd slam it shut in the kidnapper's face. While he sat down on the couch, winded, I'd grab the poker by the fireplace and run back to deal with the kidnapper as I saw fit. Adrenaline rushed through my system even as I imagined smashing the creep in the face, stabbing it through his head until he lay still and Riku was safe and never left me again.

Of course, a missing person's case is different. I wasn't sure that Riku was kidnapped, I wasn't sure that he was alive—I just wasn't sure about anything. So there was no one to blame except the phantom kidnapper conjured by my own mind, and, according to Mr. Yume, there didn't look to be much evidence of his whereabouts. Things generally looked grim over there, but I expected everything to happen. I was going to get Riku back, and I was going to get answers. Then whatever happened would sort itself out, and whoever needed to would go to jail to meet his just desserts.

Coming out of the daze, I turned to look at the notebook that I'd left on my bed, wondering vaguely whether I should try to use it. A few of the first pages had been ripped out, obviously to keep Ms. Nakamura's secrets safe. Since I had nothing better to do, other than sit and wait, I climbed onto the bed and flipped it open, turning it right-side up so I could read the words on the first page.

_Sora,_

_This notebook is for your use and your use alone. You don't have to show it to me or to anyone else, and you don't have to be Shakespeare or Thoreau. Just write whatever it is that comes to mind, whatever you feel, so you can release it onto the paper._

Well, that was a relief. I had thought she wanted me to write everything in the flowery words of a poet or experienced writer. But if I only had to write exactly what I felt, that made it easier. So I picked up a pencil and turned the page, feeling awkward as I looked at the blank paper. I had no idea what to put down at first, but I started with the simple things and the words began to flow.

_Riku._

That was simple enough. That name alone could describe Riku to me in more words than any book or poem.

_He's missing. The plane ride—the one to see his aunt. He didn't get back on the plane. He's missing. He's gone. Why can't they find him? I want them to_

I stopped to flick away a tear that had fallen onto the paper.

_find him. All I want is for him to come home and tell me everything's okay. I want to see him again. Maybe if I said something differently, or did something else, he'd still be here and I wouldn't have to write this. But I didn't, and now he's gone._

The pencil rolled away down the paper and I curled into a protective ball, shaking with sobs. He had to come back. Someday he would, because I needed him. But I needed him now, and he wasn't here.

**V**

I met Kairi at the mall, and why? Because she told me to. It had been two more weeks already with no sign of Riku anywhere and no word from his parents. I had started watching the news, but they only mentioned him once when they rattled off a missing persons report and then concentrated on the case of a little girl who had gone missing during a camping trip. Riku was only another face in the crowd, important to no one but us here at home.

The straw to my banana smoothie was beginning to soften under my teeth as I thought about it. The picture shown on the news report had been one from just last summer when we went fishing. It only showed Riku's face, but I could recognize my hand in the background and I knew Mr. Yume had been shown close by, floppy fisher's cap tilted jauntily on his head.

"And that's why I told her no," Kairi was saying in some other world far away from me. "I mean, who in their right mind is going to pull a stunt like _that_ just to get a moment in the spotlight? You saw Tidus walking around with his arm in a sling last year, so I definitely don't want to—Sora?"

I turned to her, jerking awake at the sound of my name, and frowned at the trinket dangling in front of my face by way of the strand of hair it was hanging from. "Yeah, Kairi?" I asked, pulling it off and letting it fall onto the table.

Kairi seized it after a moment of scrutiny, slipping it into her purse. "Were you listening to a word I just said?"

I shot her a sheepish look, trying my irresistable grin on her. "No. Sorry, Kairi, I'm just still thinking about Riku."

Her eyes, narrow slits by now, widened in understanding and she smiled softly, the tips of her eyebrows pointing upward sadly. "I know you're still upset about him, Sora, but you're going to have to let him go. He's been gone for more than three weeks, and the kidnappers would have made the call by now."

"It's easy for you to say, isn't it?" I asked her a bit harshly. "He wasn't your best friend. He didn't mean all that much to you, so what do you care if he dies and I have to live without him?"

She looked shocked. "Sora, I—"

"You don't know what I'm going through," I added bitingly. "You don't know what this is like, sitting there all by yourself and hoping that someone'll tell you where he is. Hoping he'll just turn up and then you won't have to be alone anymore. Waiting for someone to say, it's all gonna be okay. You just don't know!" It hurt to speak now, the tears hovering behind my eyes and just waiting to spill out. I glared at her, watching her expression change to a defensive one.

"I'm only trying to help you get through this," she told me then. Funny how that hadn't seemed to be the case. "He's dead, Sora. Face it. You're going to have to let go, because this relationship isn't going to work if you're not contributing."

"Maybe this relationship just isn't going to work," I hissed, unconsciously clenching my fist around the smoothie. "Maybe I'm sick and tired of you just trying to dismiss Riku like he didn't mean anything at all. Maybe it's time you faced something yourself, Kairi, and that's the fact that we don't work. The whole 'us' thing doesn't work. I don't need a prissy Miss Shop to follow me around for the rest of my life." Smoothie slipped through the top in a volcano, sliding down my fingers and forming a puddle on the table.

The shock and defensiveness had become a cataclysmic rage. "This isn't over, Sora," she told me in a shaking voice, her nails digging into the pale skin of her hands. "We're not over."

"I'm afraid we are." I stood and threw the smoothie forcefully into the trash, turning my back on her for good. I no longer had any illusions about Kairi, and I certainly didn't need her in my life. Not like that, anyway.

But there was someone I did need. I thought it through as I sat on the bench by the park, watching my own illusions run about on the vast expanse of grass. I could hear my voice sailing above the wind, chest working swiftly as I ran and Riku followed, always faster than I was, until he seized me and we tumbled. Then I was It, and the game started again. Over and over, for hours. And to think that none of it was enough.

I pushed Mr. Yume's words away. No. Those words would echo themselves in my ears only when Riku was dead, and no sooner. He'd be coming back. After all, there was too much left for him to do. We had to finish school together, and go to college and be roommates. He had to talk to his parents so Mom and I could get out of debt, and I had to run my fingers through his hair and talk. Riku, I was so worried when you went missing. I thought you might've died.

It's okay now, he would assure me, hugging me tight because I'd still be upset. I'm here. I'll always be here, right here with you, because you need me. I know that. Someone's gotta take care of you.

My face was in my knees by now, my back trembling as I went over those last few moments with Kairi. Riku would know what to do, and he'd tell me once he got back. At the moment, I'd have to get through it by myself. I usually didn't have to because there was always someone to comfort me. But now Riku was gone, and his parents were away, and Mom was in debt, and Kairi was fighting with me. There was no one I could go to.

**V**

At least, that's what I thought before I told Mom I was feeling down. She scheduled a meeting with the school counselor, but she really had to battle with me to get me to go. Counselors were people who smiled at you and told you everything was going to be okay because the sun was shining and life was so great and wonderful. They didn't understand.

I took the notebook with me, writing things down quickly as I waited in the office for the counselor to see me. _Riku. riku. RIKU. RikU. Come home, Riku. Get back here._ The notebook had become something I was liable to carry about, because it was the listener. I could write my every secret and it wouldn't be able to judge me. Only I could judge me.

Mrs. Inoue was a short woman with curly brown hair, regarding me with a green-eyed smile that looked faintly forced. "Sora Hikari, is it?" she asked, gesturing to the chair across from her.

"Yes." I sat, waiting to hear what she was going to say.

"I've heard what happened to your friend, and I'm sorry. Death is a very hard thing to cope with."

"He's not dead."

She got that sad look on her face, the same one everyone gave me whenever I insisted he was still alive. "Sora, the first step in this process is to let go. You have to let go of everything about him, and then you can begin to heal."

Let go? Did she really expect me to just abandon Riku, and ignore the scar of living without him? What kind of person did she think I was?

"I would like you to tell me about him, this Riku Yume. What was he like?"

My fingers found their way to the edges of the paper in the notebook, and I suddenly felt the need to write. I wanted to write down how stupid Mrs. Inoue kept utilizing past-tense in order to convince me what I knew wasn't true. How I didn't even want her to say his name—she made it sound like a disease I was suffering from. "He's just…Riku," I managed, not entirely sure how to enunciate how much he meant to me and whether I wanted to in the first place.

Mrs. Inoue smiled patiently, but I noticed a muscle twitch in her cheek as she did. "Tell me—oh, what's that notebook?"

I clutched it to my chest protectively without realizing it. "It's something I use," I replied vaguely. "I write in it."

"Schoolwork?"

"No."

She eyed me, a hint of impatience in her posture. Nonetheless, she waited for me to get more specific. "What, then?" she asked finally, clearly unable to keep up the battle of wills.

"Riku."

She smiled again—she seemed to be doing that too much for comfort—and put out a hand. "May I see it?"

There was a pause as I shifted uncomfortably, my arms beginning to ache in their loyal protection of the notebook. "It's for me," I managed. "My feelings. I don't really…want to show it to anyone."

"Oh, come now," she continued, the muscle twitching in her cheek again. "I need to see it. If I'm going to help you, I need to know how you feel."

I hesitated. After all, she was the one running the show, and she knew what she was doing. With a strange feeling in my stomach, I handed her the notebook, almost wanting to reach back and grab it as I felt it slipping from my hands. I sat there as she read it, thumbing through it in my mind and trying to remember what all was in there. A few things made me rest my head on my hands and want to cry. Here I was before her, naked and open to her scrutiny and judgement. My deepest, darkest secrets were at her fingertips.

The situation would be different if Riku were there. Sora doesn't want you to read it, he'd say to her in a harsh voice, those beautiful eyes narrowing. Leave him alone. He doesn't have to show it to you if he doesn't want to. But Riku wasn't there, and I felt that the strength to tell her no was drained out of me without knowing he was at my side or nearby.

After an eternity of waiting and hoping she wouldn't make a comment, or laugh, even, I felt the notebook replaced in my hands. "I see," she said quietly, a faint smile on her lips as she looked down at her hands, deep in thought to absorb everything she'd just read. "It's a very sad story, Sora. I'm sorry you have to go through all this, and I want you to know that you can trust me. I want you to tell me everything." Her voice sounded genuine, but the understanding smile she turned on me didn't seem to reach her eyes. "I think that," and she extended a hand toward the notebook, "you should keep writing in this. I can see you once a week, after school, and then I'd like to see how you're doing."

That was the last thing I wanted to hear. The thought that she was going to be reading through everything I wrote made me want to throw it away and start anew. Just the thought of her dirty little eyes taking in every repetition of Riku's name, every expression of pain and distress. "Okay," I said quietly, still feeling drained. I just couldn't refuse. She had so much power over me for some reason.

The smile didn't leave her face and started looking as though it hurt. "Well, I think we made progress today, Sora. I'm sure we can count you completely healed in a matter of weeks. Losing a best friend is hard, but I know you can get through it."

I nodded numbly as she escorted me to the door. A delicious feeling of relief passed through me when she said goodbye and left, and I was free to return home.

**V**

Riku was sitting next to me. I could feel him there, his body pressed up to mine as his fingers stroked my hair comfortingly. It's okay, Sora, he'd tell me over and over, like he always did. Everything's going to be okay. Just you wait.

But then I opened my eyes and he wasn't there. No one had told me it would be okay, so I still wasn't sure. There was too much on my mind. Riku, Mrs. Inoue, Mom and the debt, Mr. and Mrs. Yume so far away. The anxiety made me want to laugh, cry, and explode all at once. If only Riku really had been there to tell me it was going to be okay.

The notebook was lying on the bed beside me, and my arm slung over it looked pale and thin. The arm of a sick and dying child. This time next week, Mrs. Inoue would have read it again and I wouldn't want to keep it any longer. Not if I had to bare my heart to her every week. So, I decided, I wouldn't show her. I would put down fake entries and keep my true feelings to myself.

With this thought in mind, I proceeded downstairs in time to meet Mom as she came home. Her face was pale and drawn, not at all like the Mom I was used to seeing. "What happened?" I asked, wondering whether someone in the family had died, or had something terrible happened to the Yumes.

"I-it's nothing," she stated quickly, putting a hand to her face. "I'll be all right in just a moment, honey."

A cold feeling of dread ran down my arms, raising the hairs on them. "Is this about the debt?"

She looked up, eyes widening. "Sora—!"

"I couldn't help it," I told her, feeling guilty. I rested my hands against the back of my head and watched my shoe scuff across the floor. "I was gonna call Riku, and…"

Her lower lip was turning white under the lipstick as her teeth bit into it, but she sighed and sat down. "Yes, it's about the debt. See, Sora, your father and I are divorced—I'm not sure if I ever told you that. He was paying for child support up until earlier this year, when he arranged with the court to stop the payments because he didn't have custody of you, or even visitational rights. I did that much to keep you away from that man." Her eyes were filled with fire and her nostrils flared defiantly. Something awful must have happened between them. "The truth is, we were really dependent on those payments. They served to pay most of the taxes, so when they stopped coming…" The thin shoulders rose and fell helplessly.

"But—we can get help, right?" I asked as I approached her, continuing quickly when I saw her start to reply. "I know you want us to live without it, but it's not gonna work if we can't hold out without one lousy payment. If we just ask a debt solutions agency, we could recover."

She nodded, still biting her lip. "I know, Sora, and I've already made the call. But there's still money needed that we don't have, so I've decided…" There was a moment of hesitation, during which she sighed raggedly. "I've decided to sell the house, Sora."

My jaw dropped open, a terrible feeling passing through me and making me dizzy. Sell the house? Our house? The house where I grew up—where I made every single scar and dent in its walls and on its floors and ceilings? This house held so much for me, and so much for Riku. What would he say when he got back and it was gone?

I think that was the only time I ever hit my mother. It was a senseless act of violence, hinging primarily on everything that had happened up until this moment. When I hit her, I hit the kidnapper, and Mrs. Inoue, and Kairi, and everyone else who made me miserable. My world was crashing down around my ears. Not listening to the sounds of her growing anger with me, I ran to my room and barricaded the door, collapsing on my bed in a fit of sobs.


	6. Kairi

Review Replies are posted as reviews.

**VI**

Life Isn't Enough

Chapter Six: Kairi

**VI**

I wandered through the house, running my hands over the familiar wallpaper. The house seemed so lifeless as it was painfully emptied, room by room. It was turning into a skeleton of what had been.My room had a big hole in the wall, which Riku and I discovered when he happened to stab the wallpaper in exactly the wrong place. My dresser had been moved to hide it up until today, but now it was being hauled to the door by the two grunting movers. I was making my final rounds through the house, forcing myself to be stolid. I wasn't going to cry. I refused to cry. Instead I forced my usual smile, humming happily the song Riku and I used to sing whenever we were out on the beach. A song of everlasting sunshine and happiness.

Mom had disappeared somewhere, instead of being out there to supervise the way I thought she would be. So I found myself alone in my empty room, a few boxes off to the side with my stuff in it and all the furniture on its way out. The living room and most of the other rooms were already clear, awaiting only the stripping of their wallpaper by the new homeowners. Unable to bear it, I had bent by the hole in the wall with a marker, inscribing my name in the plaster.

_This room belongs to _

_Sora Hikari_

I had paused then, thinking again of all the precious moments shared in this room. All the sleepovers, and the pillow fights, and the battles with darkness. Riku shone through it all with his own personal light, even when the nightlight went out and he found this hole. I was so afraid, conjuring up all manner of demon hiding in the darkness of the strange hole in my wall, but he climbed up in bed with me and held me tight, telling me it was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

_And_

_Riku Yume._

Then I straightened and watched Mom come in, a camera in her hand. She handed it to me, the metal pressing into my palm as her fingers grazed my skin. "I…took pictures," was all she could manage. But I understood, and we stood alone in that little room for an eternity together. Even though it was an eternity that could never be enough.

"It's not much, but it'll do," Mom told me optimistically as we looked around at the small apartment. "Once we get all our money straightened out, we can move into a bigger house."

There was a slight twinge of hope in her words, but I knew that by the time we were able to buy the house back, the new owners wouldn't want to sell it. "It'll be okay," I said quietly, setting my bag down on the carpet. "I kind of like it here." I flashed a grin at her, ignoring the empty feeling in my chest. I didn't really believe it, of course, but I was Sora Hikari. I didn't quit, no matter what. Even if…even if…I stopped thinking that abruptly, because it wasn't true. Riku was alive, and if he wasn't…if Riku was dead, I didn't know what I'd do.

**VI **

School went along its merry way, and Kairi floated away from me. She was still mad at me for breaking up with her, and quickly seized on to Wakka as her new boyfriend. From what Selphie told me, she'd already tried Tidus and had no luck due to Selphie's own intervening. Other than her sudden attachment to Wakka, Kairi seemed to be drifting completely out of our circle of friends.

"I'm not in the mood, Selphie," I told her, pulling off the little keychains she was hanging in my hair. Today was the day I had to go and see Mrs. Inoue, so it was understandable that I was in no mood for games.

"Sora," she groaned in complaint. "You're never in the mood." She hesitated. "Oh, I'm sorry—you're still upset about Riku, and about your house, right?"

"Yeah." That was part of it.

Selphie nodded, running the tips of her fingers along my arm comfortingly. "Okay. I won't rush you. I still can't believe it myself. He was an awesome guy."

I opened my mouth to tell her the usual, only just then I spotted Kairi walking with Wakka. Selphie's mood turned sour and she leaned back, eyes intent. "There's Miss Too-Good-For-Everybody. Wonder if she's still mad."

Kairi apparently was, because when she saw us sitting there, she took Wakka's arm and started in another direction. "I don't believe this," I heard Selphie mutter. Wakka, meanwhile, was struggling.

"Hey, Kai, why don't we just sit over there, eh? Selphie and Sora's o—"

"Just come on, Wakka! Let's sit somewhere else!" There was a tone of authority in her voice.

Wakka had clearly had enough. "Hey, man, I didn't start datin' ya just so I could skip out on meetin' the others. You go find your own seat, yah?" And he pulled out the chair across from Selphie.

Kairi was beginning to tremble, casting a hateful look at me. "Fine," she said quickly. "You know what, I'll—I'll just go. I'll just leave, and you'll be sorry." High heels clicking across the tile, she left the cafeteria.

"You don't think she means it, do you?" I asked, worried now. As much as Kairi had bothered me, I didn't want to see her get hurt or lost. I didn't want her to disappear like Riku had.

"Kairi? No." Selphie waved a hand dismissively. "She'll be fine. She's just a little upset that she can't sit on her high horse and have things her own way."

"Did I miss anything?" Tidus asked, sliding smoothly into the seat next to Wakka. "Stupid question, I guess," he added, catching Kairi's furious departure. "She's been tailing me all day, you know. I think she's been trying to use me as a backup in case you don't work out," he said to Wakka.

"Take her, man."

"Tidus isn't going to do anything of the sort," Selphie stated sharply, giving her boyfriend a searching look. "Is he now?"

"No. No he's not." Tidus shook his head quickly. After all, Selphie had been PMSing all week, and he wasn't stupid enough to get caught in the middle of _that_.

"I think it's better if I check on her after school," I told them, twisting my fork around in my untouched spaghetti. "Kairi can do some crazy things if she gets riled up enough." I hesitated. I wasn't sure I wanted to see her alone—I might need someone to help me stay alive. "Anyone want to come with?"

"You don't think she's homicidal, do ya?" Wakka asked quickly.

Selphie frowned. "Wakka, that's not the point!"

"Count me out, man. She's probably gonna be so mad at me she might…" Wakka's imagination was clearly on the loose, since his expression turned to one of terror.

"She'd castrate you," Tidus put in helpfully. "I'm surprised you got away from her unscathed, Sora."

"Let's not discuss it."

Selphie sighed, glancing at her planner. "I'm booked today. There's a long theater meeting this afternoon, since we have to get ready for our next event. And Tidus isn't going anywhere near her."

Tidus opened his mouth to reply, thought better of it, and shut up. But he shot me a pleading look, and I knew why. For some reason, he and Kairi had grown fairly close after that strange dream about Riku. It hadn't become anything amounting to love, and Selphie had seen to that, but he still worried about her. "You know he's not going to do anything," I told her carefully, testing the water. "After all, I'm going to be there, so I can tell you if he tries anything. Then _you_ can do the castrating."

She hesitated, considering the offer, and I quickly administered an innocent grin. "All right," she agreed finally. "But you're going to tell me everything. If he so much as lays a finger on her, I want to know about it. Then I can decide what exactly to amputate."

I saw Tidus swallow hard, but he nodded in understanding, not trusting himself to speak.

**VI**

Mrs. Inoue was frowning as she went through the notebook, and I began to doubt my method. From the start, I had been pleased with myself for being such a trickster, but now I wasn't sure if it had worked. And if it hadn't, would I have to tell her everything instead?

"I'm not sure I understand," she said finally when she set it down and turned her eyes on me. "You lost your best friend, and you lost your house, not to mention your girlfriend, but you just keep writing that you're going to recover? That's fine motivation, but I have to say I'm not sure whether it's genuine. People don't usually recover from situations like this with just a wave and a smile."

"I've decided I want to keep going," I told her, and it was partially true. I did want to keep going, if only to wait out this awful disappearance so I could see Riku at the end of it. "I don't want to give up yet."

"Yet?" she repeated, and I knew I'd slipped. "I believe Ms. Nakamura gave this to you so you could write what you truly feel, and that's what I'm expecting to read. If you're only pretending to recover, well, then, I can't reach you."

The notebook hung loosely in my arms. Now that she'd already raped it of its secrets, it was no longer of concern to me whether she read it. Not until next week, when I had to come up with new material. "I didn't want anyone to read it, though," I told her. My voice was growing stronger, even without Riku there. I could almost hear his voice intertwining with my own. "It's for me. Just for me."

She smiled in understanding. "Is that all? Well, then don't worry about me reading it."

My heart leapt jubilantly, feeling the chains falling away. I watched as Mrs. Inoue went to the window, clasping her hands behind her back formally. "In order to help you, I have to understand you. But if I don't know anything about you, I can't understand."

Something about that sounded hauntingly familiar. What was it again? _One who knows nothing can understand nothing._ But where had I heard that before?

"So just don't think about it. I will continue to read through it once a week, but so long as you put that off your mind, I'm sure you can release your feelings and let me understand you."

My heart sank almost as quickly as it had risen, and the notebook became a ball and chain again. "But—"

"It's all in my hands, Sora," she told me, ushering me to my feet and out the door. "I want you to trust me, and then we can get through this together."

When the door closed behind me, I felt no better about myself. I didn't have a feeling of my troubles lifting off my shoulders, the way I'd heard it was supposed to go after a session. All Mrs. Inoue did was read my secrets and tell me what to do. It didn't even feel like a counseling session anymore. It was just another part of school, with a different kind of assignment.

**VI**

I met Tidus on the sidewalk on the way to Kairi's house. He was looking a bit harried, and explained that Selphie had threatened him quite a bit before he left. The girl was getting protective, but I could understand what with Kairi's erratic behavior. I probably would have done the same if it were Riku she was after.

The sudden impact of that thought crossing my mind stopped me dead in my tracks. Sure, I had known for a while my deepest and darkest secret—and now Mrs. Inoue knew it, too—but I had never seriously considered my relationship with Riku. But that's right, he was acting weird on the phone, so maybe _he_—

"Sora, come on!" Tidus called from farther ahead. He apparently hadn't noticed that I was no longer walking next to him, but he tried to cover for it quickly by approaching with long strides. "Have you forgotten where to go?"

"Uh…no," I replied, shaking my head and trying to collect my thoughts. "Sorry, I was just thinking. Let's go."

"That's what I just said."

"No, you said 'come on.' That's different."

Tidus frowned. "No it's not!"

"It is, a little."

"Oh, whatever."

Kairi's house was quiet, all the lights out and no cars in the driveway. The house itself seemed to emanate an aura of foreboding. "Maybe she's not home," Tidus suggested brightly. "Okay, let's go see Sel—"

"You're worried about her, right?" I started for the door. "Her parents both work, so they wouldn't be home, but she might. I just don't know why all the lights are…" Oh, no. She didn't. She couldn't! Kairi!

The door was locked, so I backed up and threw my shoulder against it so hard I was afraid I might kill myself. "We've got to get in!" I told an alarmed Tidus. "Think about it! She left the cafeteria, she said we'd be sorry—" I felt sick. Oh, God.

Tidus caught on fairly quick, but he kept some semblance of calm. "There's a back way with a key, in case she ever lost hers. I know where it is. Come on!"

We ran around to the door at the side, both nearly panicking by now, and my heart was in my throat again. If only I had done something, if only I had said something. Maybe if I didn't break up with her, she wouldn't have done this. But I knew I wouldn't lose Kairi—even if Riku was dead, I wouldn't lose her. I couldn't lose her. Not now—not _ever_.

_I promised to take care of her._

Tidus fumbled momentarily for the key, and then the door slammed open against a table, knocking it over and breaking the vase resting on it. We rushed in, sneakers pounding against the wood in a desperate race against time. Please don't let her be dead, I kept thinking. God, please don't let her be dead.

Kairi was on the floor, her back against the stove and her skin pale and cold. Bottles were open around her, pills strewn about the floor. "Kairi!" I shouted, rushing to her side. I took her limp hand in mine, feeling for a pulse with shaking fingers. Nothing. "Call an ambulance!" I called to Tidus even as he ran to the phone. As he spoke to the person on the other line, struggling to keep his voice level, I checked for other vital signs. She was still breathing, at least. Kairi. You can't die, Kairi.

**VI**

We waited uncertainly in the hospital, two sniffling boys with red eyes and ruffled clothes amongst the crisp professionals. Kairi's parents arrived almost immediately after the ambulance got there, seizing us to them and thanking us over and over for finding her before she was dead. Wakka and Selphie were there soon after, Selphie sobbing quietly to herself in the corner while the rest of us stood around awkwardly, trying to ignore each other's tears and the terrible dread suspended like a cloud over our heads.

It turns out that Kairi was suffering more than I realized. It wasn't just the fact that Riku had disappeared and I had broken up with her and now our whole friendship was in fragments around us—there were other reasons. Like the fact that she was adopted because I found her on the beach (something I couldn't remember for some reason), and that she was always trying to get to me, but Riku was always in the way. I'm not exactly sure what all else convinced her to take her own life, since this is all she told me, but I could rest assured that she didn't die and was no longer in danger of dying, despite the overdose.

"I'm sorry I let everything get so out of control," she said to me when I sat beside her in the hospital the next day. "I guess…I'm still a little off because of everything that happened."

I nodded. "It's okay, Kairi. So long as you're safe now."

"Hasn't there come a time when…when you've thought about it, too?" she asked, sitting up a little. "I mean, what with all the Heartless and all the people you have to fight…"

"Kairi, what are you talking about?"

"I'm just tired, Sora. I'm tired of being a tool. I'm tired of someone else using me for his own stupid plans." Her voice was beginning to crack. "But you…at least you have someone to protect you."

I stared at her, unable to fully comprehend this. Had she gone insane? Did those pills do something to her mind?

"He's right there," she said then, pointing to the chair next to me. "Sitting there with you. I can see him."

Knowing I wouldn't see anything, I turned my eyes to the empty chair. Suddenly its emptiness seemed like a hole, almost, in the fabric of reality. He was supposed to be there, but he wasn't. And there wasn't anything I could do to fix it. I closed my eyes against the image, wishing I could see what Kairi did.


	7. Secret

Review Replies are posted as reviews.

**VII**

Life Isn't Enough

Chapter Seven: Secret

**VII**

It was after Kairi left for rehab a few days later that I began to consider it. Before then, I had thought that it was too much and I didn't want to go on, but I hadn't thought of killing myself. Not directly, anyway.

The fact that Kairi had tried already—and failed—actually didn't affect what I thought about it. It didn't scare me into realizing what I did have, but it did stiffen my resolve in that if I tried, I would be successful. I would know how to pull off a clean job without anyone being able to catch me when my spirit leaked out and went to join with the dead. Maybe if I died, I could find Riku again.

But no, I couldn't, because he wasn't dead. I had to hang on, as hard as it was, until he came back. Then the shattered fragments of my life would fall back into place.

A heated anger descended on me. If I was waiting, why couldn't they find him? How hard was it to find one person, with _silver hair_? How does someone like Riku just vanish into thin air? But I guess the police didn't know him, and didn't realize what Riku was really like. So of course it wasn't as big of a deal to them if they didn't find him. No! Don't think that. He would be found. He would be alive. He would come back.

Having decided this, I left my room to forage for food. The fridge was full of crap, and I found a really big rat in my cereal. At first I thought it was the prize, but there was no mention of it on the box. Watching it scamper away and thinking about filing a complaint to the landlord, I sighed and settled for milk. But when I went to get the glass, because I was now officially the proprieter of the worst luck in all of Destiny Islands, I happened to drop it and part of it shattered. I stooped to scoop the pieces into my hand, dumping the small pieces into the garbage. It wasn't until they were thrown away that I realized the sharp part of the broken glass was biting into my arm, drawing a bit of blood. It didn't hurt much, for some reason. In fact, as I pressed on it and it cut a little deeper, it helped. I watched in morbid fascination as the droplets of blood ran down my arm, as though they were crying for me. All the pain I was holding deep inside suddenly seemed less.

It was then that I realized what exactly I was doing to myself, and I quickly threw the glass away with a shiver, rushing to the medicine cabinet for a bandaid. I wouldn't be doing _that_ again, I decided. But that was because I clearly didn't know myself very well.

**VII **

My weekend vanished too quickly and before I knew it, I had to go and see Mrs. Inoue again. I didn't want to see her, since lately I'd been putting down genuine thoughts and feelings that I didn't want her to see. But still, I found myself with Ms. Nakamura for third block, only one class away from the session.

The bell rang, and I waited in my seat, not yet ready to get up to leave Ms. Nakamura's comforting presence. She had grown to be almost a protector, defending my right to cry and feel remorse and anxiety. I wasn't sure if it was her job, though, to keep Mrs. Inoue from prying into my personal feelings.

"Sora? Are you all right?" she asked, approaching me as the last few students filed out the door.

I hesitated. "Yeah," I told her, smiling. "Just thinking, that's all."

She gave me a doubtful look, but nodded and gestured to the door with a comment about my next class. I stood, gathering my books in my arms, and started away. But just before I reached the door, I turned around and said, "She read it." That was all I could get out before my throat squeezed shut with tears and my eyes started to water.

"What?" Ms. Nakamura, like Mr. Yume, was adept at reaction, leading me to a seat quickly and looking into my eyes. When she saw that I was clearly going to lose control, she seized the box of tissues from her desk.

"Mrs. I-Inoue," I managed, my voice beginning to tremble with emotion. I suddenly felt inadequate—me, a fourteen-year-old, crying because some counselor didn't even have to bully me into giving her my notebook. At least I'd never been in any type of dangerous situation that needed me to stay strong. I'd never be able to live through it. "She read the notebook. I let her, but…but I didn't want her to see it."

It was clear that I wasn't explaining it properly, and I'm still not sure how I could have without repeating the entire scenario, but Ms. Nakamura had this ability to understand more than I expressed. "All right. We'll go and talk to her right now," she told me with a confident smile that hid the anger I could see in her eyes. "You go ahead to the bathroom and get yourself cleaned up. I'll call your next teacher—you have Mr. Kotori next, don't you?"

I nodded, sniffing and feeling pathetic. Why did I have to break down and be so weak all the time?

"I'll tell him what's happened, and we'll get this straightened out. Mrs. Inoue isn't supposed to press you for that kind of information."

"O-okay."

Nodding, she went to the phone as I rose and went to the door, using several tricks to hide my tears so the people in the hallways wouldn't see. It was only once I was in the bathroom, watching the redness go away, that I realized just how much Ms. Nakamura understood about me. She must have known that no boy in the world likes to cry because it erases his macho image. While my macho image had been suffering lately, I still didn't want to ruin it for myself by going to see Mrs. Inoue looking like this.

"…be getting back to your class as soon as possible," Ms. Nakamura was saying when I returned to the classroom. "No, this is serious. I'm not sure what exactly she learned about him, but he wasn't comfortable with her reading it, and you know what happened with our last counselor." She listened intently for a moment. "All right. I'll write him a pass."

She hung up and turned to see me, an apologetic look on her face that barely masked the taut anger behind it. "Lately, it seems like we only attract the bad eggs when we're looking for counselors. Let's hope we can straighten this out so we don't have to let her go, though."

I nodded, even though I knew she was angry enough to do just that. We proceeded down the hall in silence, me considering what I would say to Mrs. Inoue. There was a fear that she would somehow take control, convincing Ms. Nakamura that I was mistaken and I wouldn't be able to speak up for myself. But I would have to do that now, I decided. I would have to be strong.

Mrs. Inoue was speaking on the phone when we reached the office, and I could see her gray, roundish shape through the opaque window. "…Exactly. Oh, but I _know_. These high school children are on my nerves all the time. One of them actually believes I'm going to take some of the crap he writes as the real thing."

A cold shiver passed down my spine and I stopped short, hearing a slight whimper that I didn't realize was mine. Ms. Nakamura looked confused for only a moment before her eyes widened in understanding, and she looked toward the door, her eyes flinty.

There was disgust in Mrs. Inoue's voice as she continued. "Not even a good Christian boy, that one. Turns out he's a little fag, too."

It was a blow. I let out a dry sob, and my knees were suddenly too weak to support me. The world blurred even as I heard Ms. Nakamura's voice, sharp and unforgiving. I closed my eyes, feeling the cold tears as they streaked down my cheeks in a race to my chin. It was too much. After everything, now I had to deal with this. What kind of cruel divinity ruled over us, safely enclosed in their own personal haven in the clouds? Why was all this happening? What was the point? To kill me? I could do that by myself if it was really necessary. If it would get me out of here and away from all these stupid people, intent only on hurting me badly enough that I'd rather peel away my skin than breathe for just a moment longer…

Ms. Nakamura was talking rapidly now, but I couldn't understand what she was saying. Blind with tears, I let her guide me to one of the cold plastic chairs, resting my head in my hands. I looked up, blinking away a few of the tears, and saw Mrs. Inoue glaring and pointing at me, arguing in a loud voice. She turned her eyes on me and any warmth that I had first perceived in them was gone, replaced by an indescribable hatred. She took a step forward and I expected her to hit me—maybe that would make it hurt less, at least—but Ms. Nakamura stepped in front of me, seeming twice her height. Her hands were clenched at her sides, trembling visibly with anger. But then she was gone behind a veil of tears, and I leaned forward, rocking back and forth. If only Riku was here, I thought over and over. If only he was here.

**VII **

Time must have passed, because an eternity later I was lying on the couch, drained. I must have memorized every nook and cranny in the wrinkled ceiling in the three hours after Mom came by and picked me up to take me back home. Of course, it wasn't home—not exactly—but it would suffice. I only sat up long enough to pull back the bandaid back from the cut I'd given myself earlier, and then I leaned into the cushiony, familiar couch, worming my fingernail between the broken skin. It hurt, of course, but it was satisfying. I smiled, feeling the burden lessen as I continued.

Mom came in for a short time before dinner, hugging me and talking to me in a soft, comforting voice. She asked a few questions that made everything feel different—feel normal again, like nothing had really happened and I had only fallen down the steps. I smiled at her, telling her all the answers she wanted to hear, and then she was gone, vanished into the kitchen.

I lay down on my stomach on the couch, seeing the phone on the table next to me. For a moment I watched it as if it was going to do something, wondering whether or not I should really pick up the receiver and dial. But I wanted to know. Had the Yumes gotten back yet? Did they have Riku with them? Or was everything I had ever known lost for good? Without that knowledge, I was sitting with my head on the chopping block, waiting for the axe to fall.

So I dialed, taking comfort in the familiarity of the usual seven numbers that would lend me a few moments of Riku's time and his voice. It rang three times with no answer, and I was about to hang up when I heard the answering machine click on.

"Hey there, you've reached the Yume residence. This is Riku—"

"And this is Sora!"

"—and it looks like we're not home right now, so tough luck. Leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you whenever I so desire. Bye!"

BEEP

My fingers went numb around the receiver, and I remembered it. I remembered how Riku hadn't wanted me to comment, since I wasn't a Yume, but I had done so anyway. I'd left a message on there once not long after we created it about a year ago, something about where was Riku and his big fat pants and I'd call back later. I called him Fat Pants on the beach after he called back, and the word got out so he was mad for a while, but then he calmed down and transmutated to good old Riku again. But now this, this one little blurb, light-hearted and somewhat random, was all I had left. That might be the last bit of his voice I would ever hear.

The receiver landed on its cradle with a click.

**VII **

A small part of me had finally accepted the fact that Riku was either dead or just gone, but the major part of me would not. He had disappeared before. I didn't remember when, or what had happened exactly, but I knew it had, somehow. He had been gone for an agonizing period of time, and then he had returned, and everything was right again. So he would come back.

Mr. and Mrs. Yume didn't think so, though. They came home on the flight that should have brought him home, but they were without him. Aunt Muffy was with them, and I met her for the first time. She was a tiny woman with more wrinkles than an elephant, and a memory to match. Her hearing wasn't worth much, though. For the moment she took up residence in the Yume guest room, where Riku and I had once had a water balloon fight and ended up in heaps of trouble, but I got the impression that Mr. Yume planned to eventually move her into Riku's room, since it was more convenient for her.

Back with me, I adjusted to the new house slowly, and Mrs. Inoue was fired and then discredited so that she could no longer practice psychology or counseling. Tidus, Selphie, and Wakka, all of whom had gotten particularly angry when they heard, thought it was a suitable punishment. But for some reason it didn't matter to me. It just wasn't satisfying.

It was more satisfying to lie on my bed in the dead of night, the dim light from the moon spilling through the window and onto my pale legs, stretched out before me like porcelain rods as the thin knife I'd swiped from the kitchen continued its work on my skin. I was devious enough to pick places that people would never see unless I somehow managed to lose my shirt or shorts. But too soon that wasn't enough, so I began wearing long-sleeved shirts and pants. These earned me an odd look every now and then—I wasn't known for wearing that sort of thing—but summer had become fall and would soon be winter. I began to hate myself for the first time, my eyes meeting their glowing counterparts in the mirror as I sprawled on the bed with the blood-streaked blade. In the darkness I looked like some scrawny, depraved child, friendless and alone.

"I've been talking to some of the other teachers," my mother said one night as she washed the dishes and I dried them, "and I've heard of this one guy who might be able to help you get through this. He's not a counselor per se, but—"

"No," I said flatly, letting the plate I was holding emit a loud chink, a ringing tone of finalty. "No more counselors."

She gave me a motherly look, her brows turned up imploringly. "Honey, not all people are like that…that _woman_." She looked very much like she wanted to say a few other words describing Mrs. Inoue. "In fact, it's very rare that—"

"I said no more!" I repeated. I made a jerky movement and a bowl slipped out of my hand, shattering on the kitchen floor. Mom looked angry for a moment, but then she sighed and started to clean up while I resumed drying.

"If you would just give him a chance, Sora," she said in a disappointed tone as she let the pieces fall into the garbage. I didn't answer, hoping she would just be quiet. I didn't need anyone like Mrs. Inoue telling me how to run my life! How hard did I have to try to get that through her head?

Mom suddenly seized my left hand, pulling back the sleeve to reveal a slender cut that twisted across my wrist. "What's this?" she asked, looking concerned. "How did you get that?"

"I don't know," I replied shortly, tugging my hand back and continuing. I didn't want to let her into my little world of self-torment and loathing. "Probably ran into something sharp. I don't remember."

She nodded, but then hesitated. "Are you sure, Sora? I don't want you to be doing something dangerous. You'll let me know, won't you?"

And that just pushed me too far. I remembered Mrs. Inoue asking me the same question. I'd let her know, wouldn't I? I'd tell her everything that was in my soul, wouldn't I? I'd just stand by and do nothing while she blabbed to everyone in the world about it, _wouldn't I_? "It's none of your damn business what I do, all right?" I said sharply, glaring at her. "Maybe some people would rather not let everyone know just exactly how they're feeling every single day! Maybe _some_ people would rather not let the world know it if they're…if they're gay! All right? So stay out of my business, you stupid nosy bitch!"

I was fuming now, not caring what she was going to say next and whether I'd be punished or not. But she didn't say anything, staring at me with a terrible look on her face—a hurt, vulnerable look, like I'd just cut open her heart and she didn't know what to do. I recognized that look. It was the same one I had seen in my own eyes when I looked into the mirror and Riku was gone. When we had to sell the house. When Mrs. Inoue said…

I couldn't stand it. The screen door flashed once before my eyes and then slammed behind me as I raced out into the street.

**VII **

It wasn't okay, I thought bitterly as I sat on the paopu tree, eyes locked on the horizon. Nothing could ever be the way it was, even if Riku came back. My life had taken a turn onto a one-way street of despair, and there was no way I'd be able to dredge myself up from its depths. The idiot who told me everything was going to be okay had no idea what the word meant. It would never be okay again.

I heard a step on the wood behind me, and looked up, startled, my eyes catching those of the man standing on the walkway. He wasn't a man, I realized moments later—he was only a boy, maybe two years older than I was, but very tall. His hair was deep blond and arced outward in spikes, reminding me quite a bit of my own, although his seemed to have a quality of softness mine didn't. Piercing blue eyes landed on me below the blond bangs, taking in my scruffy appearance. "Sorry to interrupt," he said then in a smooth voice. "Are you Sora Hikari?"

Hesitating for only a moment, I nodded, wondering who he was and what he wanted with me. It was then that I realized he was really…uh…attractive. My cheeks began to feel hot and I looked away quickly.

"I'm Cloud Strife," he introduced himself, approaching and extending a hand.

I shook it carefully. "Nice to meet you," I managed in a mumble. There was an awkward silence, during which I searched frantically for something to talk about.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

"Huh—? Oh, no, go ahead!" I scooted to one side to make room on the paopu tree. "So…are you new to the islands?"

He nodded, and we just hit it off right then. For some reason, it seemed like he was easy to talk to. I didn't bring up anything about Riku or Kairi, but I didn't have to. I just talked, and for a short time, nothing mattered. Nothing mattered except him and me and the sunset as we continued our discussion. I was completely at ease.

When I finally said goodbye and returned home, my troubles returned in triplicate when I remembered how I had hurt Mom. I sighed, knowing I'd have to apologize, and regretted having ever said it in the first place. She was sitting in the living room when I got there, looking through a magazine. From the heated presence behind it, I knew she had been waiting. "Mom?"

"Not now, honey."

"But—"

"I said not now," she repeated, looking at me with blazing blue eyes over the top of the magazine. "Can't you see I'm reading?"

"…You're holding it upside down, Mom."

She sighed, shooting me a wry look, and dropped the magazine onto the end table. "All right. I'm waiting."

"I'm sorry for blowing up and saying what I did," I said sincerely, studying my shoes so I wouldn't have to see the anger and hurt in her eyes. "I didn't mean it. I guess I just…"

"You got fed up," Mom finished, standing. "And I understand that, Sora, but that doesn't mean you should take it out on me. Come here." I did so reluctantly, and she enveloped me in her embrace, her chin resting on the top of my head. "I don't want you to ever think I won't accept you for who you are, Sora," she said in a soft voice. "I don't care what it is about you. I'm your mother. I love you beyond all reason, no matter what. You hear me?" she asked, tilting her head to look into my eyes.

"Yes, ma'am."

"No."

I smiled. "Yes, Mom." 


	8. Cloud

Review Replies are posted as reviews.

**VIII**

Life Isn't Enough

Chapter Eight: Cloud

**VIII**

The days went by and my grades slipped, despite my devout studying and the time I put into homework. It was just that, all of a sudden, in the middle of my work, I'd stop and stare off into the distance. If only, I kept thinking. If only I had gotten Riku to stay home. Or maybe if I went with him. If I had gone with him, I would be with him now. We would be all alone, but we would be together, and we wouldn't be afraid. That, at least, would quench my unbearable uncertainty. I would know where he was, at least. Whether he was alive. The police should have found him by now, I realized. Or else they should have found the creep who grabbed him. But they hadn't, and we'd received no word of a ransom. What did that mean?

It was an image I just couldn't bear. Riku, all alone, curled up in the corner of a house, fearing for his life at the hands of some big burly killer. Riku, shrinking behind a dumpster as a man approached with a gun or a knife. Riku being hurt…Riku dying…

I screamed a denial, pressing my hands over my eyes in an attempt to get rid of the image burned onto my retinas. When I took them away, eyes burning with tears, I looked down at my math homework sullenly. I couldn't do this. Not now. Not without Riku safe at his house, in his room where he belongs. Not during this hellhole I called a life.

Sliding off the bed, I glanced down the hall to the kitchen, listening for Mom. She wasn't home yet, so I closed the door and fumbled under the bed briefly before coming up with the knife. Its blade glinted seductively in the light, begging to be used. And I was only too happy to accommodate it.

**VIII**

"Have you seen the new kid on the islands?" Selphie was asking Tidus and Wakka when I saw them after school the next day. "The blond? He's so cute!"

Tidus looked injured.

"Oh, don't start. I'd never abandon you, Tidus," the brunette assured him, catching him in a tight embrace. "Not even for Brad Pitt."

"What about Daniel Radcliffe?" Wakka put in, his eyebrows quirking with interest.

Selphie hesitated.

The conversation, though, reminded me of Cloud, since he was obviously the blond Selphie was talking about. I hadn't seen him in several days, so I was beginning to worry. I had decided that I didn't care what happened to him, since I barely knew him and I didn't need him, but the thought of him moving away or getting killed was disturbing. True, I had lately been watching my friends with a steely eye, making sure they didn't do anything stupid and leave me all alone. But I had my reasons.

I returned home seeing apparitions of Riku everywhere I went. Each one was, as usual, only a trick of the eye, but I chased them anyway, hoping and believing for one joyous instant. These various detours took long enough that Mom was home by the time I got to the house, so I walked inside, dropping my bag next to the door and flopping onto the couch next to her. She was watching something about court on television, but when I showed up, she toyed with my bangs a bit and then spoke.

"I've been thinking about getting you that other counselor."

"But Mom—!"

"Shush," she commanded, and my teeth clicked together. "He's a newcomer, but most of the others in town have said that he's known for being soothing. He has an insight most people your age probably don't. Anyway, I've scheduled for him to come and see you this Friday. You will address him as Mr. Strife unless he tells you otherwise. Understood?"

"Cloud?" I realized, unable to believe it.

"You know him already?"

"Yeah—we talked together on the paopu tree last week. I didn't know he was a counselor."

"Well, he's technically not, but I'm comfortable with the idea of you talking to him some. Maybe that would help you get back on your feet."

I sat up, turning around to face her. "Mom…Riku—you don't think he's dead, do you?"

There was a silence as our eyes stared into one another, both seeking answers. "I don't know, Sor," she replied with a sigh. "I'm not sure what to think anymore. I don't want to make you believe he's dead, but I don't want you to end up getting hurt if you find out that he is."

I nodded. That was the same fear I had. That I'd let go and then he'd just come back, or I'd keep believing it for years, sitting on that paopu tree and waiting for him to come back. Maybe he would, finally, in the arms of the police. They'd pull back the sheet to reveal his face, pale, still beautiful. I'd reach for his hand—cold as ice. He'd be already gone, and I never got the chance to say goodbye. The injustice of it cut me to the quick, and I buried my face in my arms. Not Riku._ Don't take Riku from me._

**VIII**

Cloud came to visit that Friday, and I felt the fears and the troubles fall away again. But when we came to just that, the very subject of all the pain I was going through, I fell silent. I didn't want to talk about it. Not with Cloud—I'd rather just talk about stuff, goof off, be boys and be proud of it. I didn't want to revisit the fact that Riku was gone and maybe dead.

So there was a long, awkward silence. I concentrated on trying to swallow the lump in my throat while Cloud looked at his hand as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. Suddenly he reached out and grabbed mine. "Ow," I said quickly, startled. It wasn't the kind of "ow" that meant I was hurt—it was that kind I let out sometimes if I was surprised.

"Oh—did I hurt you?" he asked, letting go quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"No, it's okay," I replied. "I was just surprised. What were you, uh…?"

"I was wondering if you were at all interested in palmistry," he replied, gazing with rapt attention at his own hand again. "I'm not very good at it, but I can tell you a few things."

Palmistry? My interest piqued, I leaned forward. "Sure, go ahead."

With a ginger kind of care, he took my open hand and looked over the palm carefully. "This one's your life line," he said, drawing a finger in a curve by my thumb. "But it's curved away from the thumb, here, and it stretches on to the base of the hand. It means you're going to do a lot of traveling."

"Me?" I shook my head, smiling. "I'm not much of a traveler myself."

"That's not what your hand says," Cloud pointed out, returning the smile. "These lines here, coming out from the line, mean that you're good at recovering from bad situations." I looked wistfully at the little lines, so small and unimportant in the vast expanse of my hand. Would they really be of any help? "Well, that's good," Cloud was saying. "We'll need it. Ah…"

"What?" I asked quickly, looking up at him and back at my hand, squinting at the lines in an attempt to divine their meaning. "Is something wrong?"

"No, just…that star. See how the lines are all kind of sticking out—like an asterick?"

"Yeah."

"That means a crisis. Something very bad is going to happen at that point in your life."

No—that couldn't be. Riku was alive out there somewhere. That crisis had to be something else. I struggled to remember something that might have been a crisis—wasn't there something? Something had happened, it was very important…but it seemed like it was just beyond my grasp. "What about the…um…the Love line?" I asked then, trying to get the subject away from Riku.

"That would be the Heart line," Cloud replied. Hearts. Why did that seem so familiar all of a sudden? "Hm. It looks like you're willing to give yourself up to love, no matter what the cost. That's a valuable trait to have." He turned my hand carefully. "Let's see. The Money line looks good—the star at the top means success, perhaps riches—and the Fate line hints at fame. Because the Head and Life lines are separated, here, you have a love of life and adventuring."

My enthusiasm was returning, and I pointed to one of the lines. "What's that one?"

Cloud's eyes widened suddenly. "Uh—that's the Sex line."

"And?" I pressed, grinning.

"…You're a competent performer, I'll give you that."

We continued talking, analyzing the lines on my hand, and I noticed that Cloud was frowning repeatedly. But whenever I asked him what was wrong, he shook his head and waved it away. Finally, I turned to his hand, spreading out his slender fingers so I could see the thin lines, rivers in a world of pale pink deserts. "What…the Life line is so short," I said suddenly, pointing to the place where it faded. "What does that mean?"

He smiled, but there was a hint of something I couldn't read apparent in his eyes. "It doesn't mean anything, Sora. Palmistry is only a cheap way to tell the future for someone who has a couple of quarters to spend."

I panicked. "But everything you told me about me was so…so true! Except maybe the adventuring, and—and what if you—?"

"I'm not," he assured me. "I'm not going anywhere, Sora."

"Cloud?" Mom called from the kitchen. "Your father's here to pick you up."

He stood, going for the door. "Don't worry about it. You strike me as the kind of person that…someone's gotta take care of."

I stared at the closed door after he was gone. The echo of Riku's words hung in the room like a cloud, making the air heavy with a kind of yearning. I felt a strange lightness, as though Cloud were some kind of angel who had come in Riku's place to tell me that…that he was going to take care of me, no matter what. I curled up on the bed, looking at the window. _Riku. Where are you?_

**VIII**

Cloud's family had moved into my old house, as I found out from Tidus a few days later. He lived with his father and his uncle, since his mother had died several years ago when he was ten. I couldn't imagine what it would be like losing Mom, although I had a suspicion it would be a lot like losing Riku. In the case of loss, then, Cloud and I had something in common. Maybe that was what made him so gentle, so able to look into a soul to find what it needed at that very moment.

I thought about that as I sat by the beach, my arms folded over my knees as I stared into the aquamarine depths. They reminded me so much of Riku's eyes, and brought back a strange image. An image of him standing there, beckoning, while a huge wave roared toward him. And I stood on the beach, knowing what would happen and yet powerless to stop it. I closed my eyes against the ocean and rested my chin on my arms.

"Do you think you're ready?"

I started violently. Cloud hadn't made his presence known until that moment, even though he was sitting so close to me it seemed impossible I wouldn't realize he was there. "Ready?" I repeated, still shaken.

"To talk," Cloud expanded. "About him."

A sigh drawn from my lips joined the sea breeze, and I nodded. "All right. Riku. Riku is…" I stopped, looking at him and waiting for him to correct me. He only nodded, though, his eyes understanding. "He's got this silver hair that I used to…that I like to fool with. It's really soft, but you wouldn't know it to look at him. And his eyes are so…deep, just like…"

"Just like the sea."

"Yeah."

My story grew from those words, like an oak tree from a seed. I tried to tell him everything about Riku, tried to make him know Riku even though he had never seen him. Not a detail was left undiscussed, not a feature was left undescribed. I told him about the times we liked to goof off, and the times we fought with wooden swords on the paopu island, the sun shining off his hair like it was some precious set of jewels. "And he said he'd come back," I finished finally. "He promised. And that's why I know he will."

Cloud nodded. "He sounds like someone you're lucky to know," he replied, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "It actually hasn't been all that long, and I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise, but if he doesn't come back, you're going to have to let go. That's why I'm here."

I nodded numbly, my eyes still on the sea. If only I could go. If only I could fly over there, maybe I could find something. I didn't care if it took me all my life, I wanted to find him more than anything in the world.

"But if he said he'll come back, he'll come back, one way or another," Cloud remarked, standing. "Come on. It's getting cold, and you don't want to get sick."

He took my hand and helped me up, and we started walking back toward our houses, still chatting mildly. Cloud glanced over at me to say something, and stopped walking suddenly. I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong, but he seized my hand, pulling my sleeve up to the elbow. The angry red scabs from my nightly torments stood out starkly in the pale of my flesh, like little rows of volcanoes along my skin. Cloud stared at them, then pulled it up higher, to my shoulder, and turned to the other arm and pulled up that sleeve, too. "I was afraid of that," he murmured, pulling up my shirt to reveal the others on my stomach and chest. He muttered a curse, pulling my shirt back to normal, and looked up into my eyes.

"Please don't tell Mom," I said quickly, not even sure why I did until I remembered. "I—I don't want to hurt her. This will worry her, and I don't want…" I don't want her to think it's her fault.

He didn't speak for a moment, and I saw suddenly the worry and the pain apparent in his eyes as well. "All right," he said. "Come to my house. We'll get you cleaned up, and I want to put some ointment on those. We'll see if we can't get them to heal."

"How did you know I was…cutting?" I asked as we started for his house, his steps lengthy and full of urgency.

Without replying, he pulled up his sleeve, and I saw a thick, shiny white scar twisting along his upper arm from his shoulder. I knew without him saying so that it had to be from when his mother died.

The door slammed open and Cloud stormed past two men standing in the living room, with me at his heels. "I'm going to my room with Sora," he said sharply. "No one disturb me for any reason."

One of the men looked at me and smirked. "I see where you're going with this, Cloud."

His brother glared at him. "Oh, shut up!"

We went up the stairs to the room that had at one time been mine. The hole was still in the wall, and I could faintly read the words I had written there. "Hey, this used to be my room!" I remarked to Cloud.

"That's why I was looking for you," he replied, straightening the bed. "I heard that Riku Yume had gone missing, but I figured that Sora Hikari had probably moved away." He started for the door. "I'm going to get the ointment. Take it off and lie down."

I blanched. "Uh…take off…my clothes?"

"Everything that you have to," he replied, and was gone for the bathroom at the end of the hall. Hesitantly, I stripped down to my underwear and sat down on the bed, looking around at Cloud's stuff. There were several pictures of him with his parents, laughing and sitting at a picnic table, or else at some school or other where an elementary school-age Cloud stood holding up an award while his mother kissed him. She was beautiful, I realized, looking at the long blonde hair and the deep hazel of her eyes. Her face was kind, and I regretted not having known her.

Cloud came in with the ointment, frowning as he heard footsteps on the stairs. He quickly shut the door behind him and turned the lock. "Cloud, what are you doing in there?" came the voice of the first man as he knocked. "Don't get too rough, all right?"

The blond turned and glared directly at the door, seeming almost to send an aura through it so that the man behind it let out a squeak and sped off with a quick, "Well, I suppose you know what you're doing!"

"Uncles," Cloud muttered, unscrewing the cap as he approached me. He still looked angry, and there was a definitive jerk to his movements.

"Cloud?" I said hesitantly as he began the painful work of spreading the stinging ointment over the cuts. "Are you…mad at me?"

He hesitated, then sighed. "No, I'm not mad at you, Sora. I'm mad at myself. I should have realized this was happening, or I at least should have checked you first. Then maybe you wouldn't have as many cuts as you do now."

"But I liked it," I protested meekly, even though I knew it was probably better if I didn't say anything. "It was…helpful. It made it so it didn't hurt as much."

"I know." Cloud didn't look up. "But one day you'll cut too deep, and there's so much blood and you suddenly realize what you've done to yourself, that it hurts and it can't be undone. If you're not lucky enough to do that, though, you'll keep going until your body can't take it anymore and you die. And that's a selfish thing to do."

"Selfish?" I repeated, feeling a surge of righteous fury. How was it selfish? After all, I'd been through enough that I could kill myself if I wanted to. I should be able to. That wasn't fair.

"Right. Once you die, others have to suffer. You know how much Riku's disappearance hurt you, right? Could you imagine what it would be like if you died and he came back? Or how much it would hurt your mother?"

As I thought of that, I felt a lump rising in my throat again. I could almost see Mom crying as I lay there in the casket, eyes closed and peaceful, even though now everyone around me had to bear the biting pain of loss. Selfish. That was the most selfish thing I could possibly do to them. "I'm sorry," I said in a broken voice.

"It's all right now. You're all right," Cloud told me, his voice soft and warm with assurance. "You'll heal. Just think of that the next time you want to cut yourself open." He looked into my eyes from where he was kneeling beside the bed. "I think it would be best if we told your mother about this."

"But—!"

"Let me finish. She would want to know, Sora. What's she supposed to do when she does find out, and you never told her? That would hurt her even more than this will."

I bit my lip and nodded. "Thanks, Cloud. For all of this."

He smiled silently.


	9. Catharsis

Review Replies are posted as reviews.

**IX**

Life Isn't Enough

Chapter Nine: Catharsis

**IX **

I was a bit apprehensive when we walked up to my front door and Cloud rang the bell. Mom answered, looking a bit surprised to see him, and asked why we were so late. Cloud spoke with her briefly and they went inside, Cloud pausing long enough to beckon me forward. Dreading what she would say and how she would react, I followed, letting the door click shut behind me.

When I got inside the living room, Mom was sitting on the couch, listening to the low words from Cloud. Shock appeared in her eyes and grew to disbelief, her face turning white and her hand going to her mouth. "Sora?" she said once, loud enough for me to hear. I lingered near the door, still not wanting to get involved. Cloud hadn't wanted to interfere, but I made him promise he would tell her instead of me.

But the message had gotten across now, so Cloud stood uncomfortably by the couch as Mom approached me, blue eyes wide with the same shock. "Sora, you know I love you, right?" she asked in a soft voice. "It's not because I—?"

"It wasn't you," I said quietly. "It's just…everything's so out of hand lately, and I…I needed an escape."

"But you could have died!" she replied, seizing me into her arms. I grimaced as the newly dressed cuts collided with her body. "You could have slit an artery and died right there in your room…and I never would have known!"

"I never went that far," I tried to say, but I knew that wasn't true. I was only half aware of what I cut.

Mom pulled back, holding me at arm's length. "Sora, I want you to promise me," she said in a shaking voice, her eyes gleaming seriously, "that you will never do this again. Never. Because you're not alone out here, Sor. There are people who can help you—and _I_ can help you. We have to stick together, even if our lives come crashing down around our ears. Because we still have each other, Sora. We still have the ones we love. The moment we don't, we're lost."

I nodded, blinking back tears. "I'm sorry, Mom," I told her, feeling the pools build up behind my eyelids. "I'm so sorry!"

"No, I'm sorry," she said, taking me into her arms again. "I'm sorry you have to go through all this. I'm sorry we had to sell the house. I'm sorry you don't have Riku or Kairi around to spill your heart to. But you're Sora Hikari, d'you hear me? You're getting through this if I have to drag you!"

I smiled through the tears, my arms tightening around her. Mom. My pillar of strength.

**IX**

I met with Cloud only briefly that week, since he had to go with his father to a meeting of some sort. So I waited out the weekend on the paopu tree, staring off into space and thinking. So much had happened, and it wasn't even Christmas yet. Winters in Destiny Islands were, of course, light, but this one had been particularly such. I could imagine the city so far away, snow piled up on the streets and on those tall, gravity-defying towers. Snow piled up on the dumpster where they found Riku's stuff. Snow piled up on a car with Riku inside, driving far away to someplace where maybe he would begin a new life and forget about me, forever a slave to his captor.

I hadn't protected him. We had decided a long time ago we would protect each other, no matter what. And he faced the monster in the Secret Place for me, and the dragon in the dead of night, and the mysterious hole in the wall. But I hadn't done anything. I hadn't protected him. The most I had done was told him I wanted him to go—to be kidnapped, the way he was.

"You were only four years old!" Selphie argued when she, Wakka and Tidus joined me. "You didn't know any better. It's not your fault."

"But I'm the one who—"

"Don't push it, man," Wakka told me, his usually bright, friendly eyes narrowed. "Weren't ya his best friend in the world? Best friends don't blame each other for that kinda stuff. It's not your fault, Sora, so don't punish yourself, yah?"

I nodded, smiling. "Thanks, guys."

"Ahem?"

"And girl."

"Thank you."

There was a silence, and we collectively turned our eyes to the horizon. "Look at us," Tidus said in a hushed voice. "We're all that's left. It's kinda fallen apart, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," Selphie agreed, her voice also strangely softer. "It's all changed so fast, like somebody made the wrong move and suddenly it's all gone, and the game's over."

"There's no game that's over," Wakka stated flatly. "We're not done here, eh? We'll live, no matter what it takes."

"Even though he's dead," Selphie stated.

"Even though he's dead," the other two chorused in agreement.

I looked up at the darkening sky, seeing the stars that fought against the darkness that threatened to consume them. "Even though he's dead," I whispered into the coming evening.

**IX**

Cloud and I sat down on the beach again on a stormy evening for what he hoped would be the last session. I wasn't sure what exactly he was going to do, but I was just a bit worried about it. Even though I knew Riku had to be dead, I didn't want to let go of the feeble hope that still insisted he was alive. I didn't want to let go of Riku.

Unfortunately, that's exactly what I would have to do.

"Join hands," Cloud directed as we sat across from one another in the sand. I complied, holding our arms out so that we formed a circle. "All right, Sora. I realized this when I was reading your palm the other day."

I took a breath. That's why he was frowning so much.

"There's a soul attached to yours. It—Riku—can't pass on until you release him. Only when you release him from yourself and accept what has happened can you begin to heal. Do you understand?"

I nodded, biting my lip. Tears were starting at the corners of my eyes. This was it. This was the end.

"What I'm going to do may seem strange, but it's going to help you. Look into my eyes. Tell me what's happened." Cloud's eyes still burned in the cloudy drizzle, like two blue flames.

"Riku's been kidnapped," I said carefully. But his eyes prodded me forward, and I admitted it. "Riku's been killed. Riku is dead."

He nodded. "Reach inside and find him. He won't be hard to find. Then let it go. Let him go on, where he belongs."

I let out a little moan, my face screwing up as the tears coursed down my cheeks. The essence of Riku, that comforting presence I'd known for as far back as I could remember, began to melt away. I clung to it fiercely. No! Don't take him from me!

"Don't," Cloud said to me. His eyes were closed and the blond brows were folded over them in concentration. "You're only making it harder."

"You take him," I managed between grief-stricken hiccups. "I-I can't do this. Take him. You let him go."

"Don't make this my fault, Sora. You won't let go completely until you do it yourself." Cloud sighed, relaxing a bit. "All right. Try talking to him. Let him know that it's time to go."

I bit my lip. "Riku, it's okay," I said slowly, almost whispering. "I'll be okay…without you…" A whimper escaped me then. I couldn't imagine living without him, and yet…

I could feel it like a hand prying my fingers apart, opening my mind again so that Riku faded. Cloud withdrew, and the feeling poured out of me. I let out a shout, trembling violently as I felt him slipping away from me. But he kept going, leaving behind a mental caress as he passed, and then the last of the water trickled through my hands. I looked up in time to see a shadow appear, a glowing sort of outline of Riku. He hesitated, but then ran for the Seaside Shack. Terrible fear surfaced in my mind and I pulled away from Cloud, running down the beach after him. "Riku!" I shouted, my voice barely audible above the rain that was pouring down now. "Riku, come back!"

But he kept running in that stride that could belong to only one person, vanishing through the door. My feet pounded along the sand after him, then up the stairs. I was too slow, and he was faster—always faster than I was. _I'll never be able to catch up with you, Riku._

It was at the end of the walkway that my ankle twisted, and I fell forward onto the paopu island, my hands stretched out imploringly. He turned and looked at me, a faceless specter, but then, quite suddenly, I saw him. I saw the aquamarine eyes looking out at mine, and they were real eyes. He was there, standing right in front of me, and starting to smile in that familiar way.

And then he vanished.

"RIKU!" I screamed in a voice wracked with sobs. The rain pelted down on my face, soaking me to the skin, but I was only focused on my best friend, out of my reach forever. "Riku, don't leave me!" The wind whipped my words about like its own personal toys, barely traveling farther than my lips before they vanished. "You said you'd come back! You promised, Riku! You promised me!" My body shook with anguish, unable to accept the simple fact that he was gone. He was gone, and I would never see him again.

"_RIKU_!" 


	10. Whispers in the Dark

Review Replies are posted as reviews. I highly recommend you read at least the first chapter after this, if you haven't recently, just because some things will sink into place. Just a suggestion, though.

**X**

Life Isn't Enough

Chapter Ten: Whispers in the Dark

**X **

It was then, lying in a heap on the sand and crying into the unforgiving storm, that I remembered it. I remembered the dream. Not the one from before with the doors and all the strangeness thereafter, but the one I'd had the night before Riku went missing.

I was standing in some dark place, on what seemed to be sand, with Riku standing across from me, in front of that door from the other dream. It was white, with thousands of miniscule designs imbedded in the wood. Riku was smiling, talking, but about what I'll never know. He looked up suddenly, and I realized that someone was standing beside me, someone in a dark cloak. At the words from the stranger, Riku's aquamarine eyes grew sad. _Can't I stay with Sora for just a little longer?_ he asked in a wheedling tone.

But the cloaked man shook his head. _This is as far as we can go. You'll have to go the rest of the way on your own,_ he explained. Then he hesitated, his head turning to one side in what seemed to be concern. _You won't get lost, now, will you?_

Riku rolled his eyes, waving a hand dismissively. _I know the way._

_All right._ The strange man turned and walked away, vanishing before he had gone three steps. I watched him go, then turned to Riku, my eyes pleading.

He walked up to me, putting his arms around me with care, as if I would break if he were any less gentle. _I have to go now, Sora,_ he explained, and I felt his fingers threading through my hair. _You're gonna have to take care of yourself, all right? I can't be here anymore. But don't let it get you down. I need you optimistic, all the time! Okay?_

_Okay,_ I managed in a whisper, for some reason feeling it necessary to whisper in this strange darkness.

_All right. Bye now, Sora. _He looked at me for a moment, then stopped long enough to place a small, chaste kiss on my lips. Then he started away, moving with his natural grace toward the white doors. He opened them, letting out the bright light within, and looked back at me.

_I'll be thinking of you._

His silhouette flashed before me, like at the airport so long ago, and then the doors swung ponderously closed. But his words remained, silent crystals hanging in the silence of his absence.

_I'll be thinking of you._

_Okay…_

Cloud was there suddenly, his fingers going through my damp strands comfortingly as I lay there on the island, feeling the wetness of the rain and my tears. I wasn't listening to what he was saying at first, still thinking of Riku running away, and now disappearing behind that door. And I realized, that was it. That was his parting message to me. Riku never lived past that first day when we realized he was gone. He was already dead even then. So that dream was the last I would see of that hair, those deep aquamarine eyes…Riku.

I looked up at Cloud, seeing his lips moving with a small smile on them. "It's okay," he was saying. "It's all going to be okay, Sora." I smiled back, and my eyes filled with tears again. Because it was. It really was going to be okay.

**X**

I'll never know what happened to Riku, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that he and I lived together, that we cared for one another, and that we may have even loved each other. What matters is that I got through it, I got through everything. Mom and I got out of debt and bought a new house, even though it wasn't as big as the first one. I kept seeing Cloud a few more times, but he declared me fully healed shortly thereafter. And Aunt Muffy never did move into Riku's room, since the Yumes decided to leave it the way it was, as testament to the fact that he existed. That his life meant something to all of us.

I don't remember much of the funeral, the dirt landing on the empty black coffin with unsettling finalty. It seemed almost as if Riku was already buried somewhere deep inside my heart, and it didn't hurt as much to have that realized in the physical world. I thought I would become attached to that cemetery, visiting it over and over to talk with him. But I didn't need to go there, because that's not where he was. An empty grave yields little solace. And Riku was with me. He always would be, somehow.

After a while, I started remembering things. I remembered strange things about other worlds, and Kairi, and precious, precious memories of Riku. Kairi came back long enough for a visit, and we talked it out until we both understood what had happened. Apparently, Riku had had those memories erased from our lives to try to end the pain they had caused. But I was never happier than when I remembered some of those things. Like when Riku saved me from Ansem, and when we fought together even harder than ever before.

Time passed and we broke apart. Kairi returned to her new home, Selphie and Tidus moved away to go to a new school, and Wakka graduated with a scholarship in Blitzball. I gathered up my pictures of Riku and all my memorabilia and put it in a special spot, the frozen moments of time depicting Riku standing there with me or with Mom or the Yumes. They offered little emotional help, but I wasn't going to lose them. As I grew older, they were no longer as sacred. It didn't matter so much if someone else wore his clothes or fooled around with his computer. It wasn't a big deal whenever someone said, "Yeah, Riku used to do such-and-such!"

I accepted the fact that he was never coming back.

And yet, he had, in a way. If for only a moment, I had seen Riku again, but then he had to go. His promise was fulfulled, and therefore annulled. I asked Cloud once about how it had happened, and he gave me a strange look. "You know, when Riku was running—"

But he put a finger to my lips, shaking his head. "Whatever you saw out there that night was for you," he said then, "and you alone."

"But how did you do that?" I persisted, intent on an answer.

"Sora, I didn't do anything. I intended to convince you to let go, and nothing more. What you saw out there…" His eyes seemed to grow distant. "That was from someone else."

I felt my eyes well up, and he took me in his embrace. It was different—not quite the same intensity, as though he was holding back—but it seemed somewhat familiar. He smelled sort of like mint, and faintly of the sea.

He wasn't the Cloud from before, I knew that much, but he and I grew older and exchanged glances more and more often and were soon well on our way to a serious relationship, even if we did goof off more than necessary most of the time. At times, I looked for Riku within him, but I knew that wasn't fair. Cloud could never replace Riku in my heart, and so I healed and moved on.

Life isn't enough, I thought as I stood alone on the beach, watching the waves. I could have lived with Riku for years and years and _years_, but I'd still be upset when he died. It would always feel like it wasn't enough time spent. But at least it was time spent. At least I talked to Riku and we became friends, instead of just glancing at each other once through a car window and then leaving without a word, wondering. Wondering what might have been. If Cloud's life turned out to be short, at least I knew him and I didn't let that chance pass me by. It's better to have loved and lost, I thought wryly as I kicked off my shoes onto the beach. After all, it's one thing to know a person. But love? Love's enough.

I took a deep breath, looking down the empty beach at the trail of footprints from the new island children.

_Let's race, Riku._

And I tore off down the beach, hearing the soft sound of his footsteps next to mine.


	11. AN and Epilogue

THIS COMMENTARY IS SHORT I PROMISE TO GOD AND RIKU SO DON'T RUN AWAY FROM THE SHEER SIZE OF THE SCROLL BAR. Danku.

Because I haven't had a disclaimer this whole time and I don't want to get banned but if you think I own Kingdom Hearts you're retarded: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, as much as I wish I did (only Riku probably would've died and Kairi would've gone blind and Sora would've had something tragic happen…you know me). I just own Ms. Nakamura, Mrs. Inoue, Sora's mom, Riku's parents, Aunt Muffy, and Mr. Kotori. Danku! (bow)

Okay, I've been nice, and I haven't clogged the chapters with my own ten pages of commentary. So I'd appreciate it if you listened to a couple things I have to say while I'm on the subject. This story is arguably the funnest I've written (not a word but nobody cares), but also the most depressing. It was somewhat based off a real-life story, which I found years ago right here on ff.n before FictionPress got started (yes, that long ago). Unfortunately, I couldn't find the author—much less the story—but kudos to her, and tears for her suffering.

In fact, the idea of Sora having a dream about Riku (in other words, sufferer having a dream about victim) comes from her story, and if you don't mind a little story about it, I happened to read about that dream while Yanni's song, Whispers in the Dark, was playing. Now, years afterward, I found that same CD, and the same song, and when the time finally came to write about Sora's dream, I listened to the same one for inspiration. (There were several fun variations on that dream to begin with, ranging from Riku running away from Sora to him coming out of Kingdom Hearts to say goodbye.) And thus, the last chapter is christened Whispers in the Dark, as a sort of tribute. Also, Sora is whispering in the dark when he says "Okay," which I thought was an interesting idea. You know, how sometimes you get all weird in dreams and you don't really know why, but later it makes sense somehow.

Sorry if that bored you at all. We'll be proceeding to the main event momentarily, and I can guarantee you'll recognize the title. There may be some minor spoilers to Chain of Memories/KH2, to warn you, but that's only if you've never heard of a certain blonde artist.

I wasn't gonna do this, you guys, but I thought you'd like it. So it's kind of a thank you for sticking with me on this. Been fun, guys. Bye for now!

Sora's story is finished.

It's time to turn the coin over…

**XI**

Epilogue

Another Side, Another Story

**XI**

I plucked at the collar of the red turtleneck idly, reconsidering my choice of clothing. The dark colors made my skin look pale and sickly, and they reminded me of…of things I didn't want to remember. But so far, I had made sure that time erased all those things so that they never happened, and I was the only one who remembered them. I had to. Somehow, I couldn't allow myself to forget.

"Riku!"

The shout came from my room, where I knew Sora was probably fooling with the loose threads in my bedsheets or kicking my baggage for no good reason. I considered staying—I was just enjoying peace of mind, and it felt like I didn't ever want to move again—but I smiled wryly and walked to the door. As usual, Sora was sitting on my bed, looking to have just finished a contemplation of the luggage. The hoodie he usually wore was downstairs, so his shoulders were bare and looked even smaller than usual.

I smirked at him from the doorway. "Do I look good?"

Sora groaned my name, obviously due to the lisp I'd adopted. He rolled his eyes and frowned at me, unaware of how his lower lip slipped out into his cute little pout.

But I wasn't done. "Yeth I do," I continued, turning to the mirror with a bit of flair. "I look goooood."

"You better change into something else."

"Or what?" I looked at him over my shoulder, mildly interested in what he planned to do to me if I didn't comply.

"Or I'll attack you and bite off your nipples."

For a moment I hesitated, blinking at him insensibly, since I thought he'd said something…well, something else involving nipples and biting. "Just like the beaver!" I said quickly, hoping he didn't notice the pause. But I was grateful for the opportunity to change out of the clothes that reminded me so much of the darkness, so I started toward the chair where a few choice clothes were left out in case I needed to change.

I heard Sora groan again as I passed, and smirked inwardly. Well, it wasn't my fault I liked to watch television.

Digging around in the clothing yielded the yellow shirt I tended to wear on the islands. There was a lot more about that shirt, but Sora didn't remember all that now. "How's this?" I asked him, holding it up for inspection.

He blinked a total of twice before putting his hands over his eyes with the protest of, "The pants, Riku, the pants! I can see stuff I don't want to."

I watched him there for a moment, slender body so vulnerable in that position. Although it was just a joke, it looked like he was trying to protect himself, just like he had to…before. I slammed a mental fist into the stupid thoughts I kept having about what happened and pushed them to the back of my head. No. That didn't happen. "That'th the point," I told him in a voice that sounded less strong than I wanted it to. Nonetheless, I turned to find the black pants. I was going to wear the blue thingies too—I think they're called "bloozies" or something stupid like that—only I hesitated and tried to imagine what they would look like in public outside of the island. "They'd look kind of goofy at the airport," I remarked to Sora.

He gestured to his red jumper, with its wide pant legs and pear shape. "Your choice, not mine," I reminded him dismissively.

He waved a hand in response and looked toward the door. I followed his gaze as I donned the given clothing, wondering what he was waiting for. Was he…oh, that's right. Kairi. Knowing her, she'd probably want to come and say goodbye, and Sora would want to see her, of course. They were almost inseparable a few months ago, before what I remembered as the big Ordeal and the problems. Likely, she was my replacement. Sora got tired of me and replaced me with some airheaded girl that he could actually fall in love with and marry. I frowned, and my movements became jerky with resentment. We couldn't fall in love, Sora and I. It just didn't work that way, according to everyone on the island. But I _did_ love him, I admitted inwardly, and it _could_ work, if only…if only he loved me back.

"I can't wait to get started on Latin next year," I told him with false enthusiasm, trying to get my mind away from Kairi and what I could never have. "Mr. Katsuya is supposed to be a very good teacher, and I'll be able to somewhat understand about five different languages!" All right, there was definitely a note of sarcasm in my voice.

But Sora didn't seem to notice. His ever-adaptive attentions had returned to the blanket where he was plucking at a loose thread. "Oh—what, the class?" he asked disinterestedly.

I grinned. _I have you now._ "Nope, the country," I replied brightly, flashing him the victory signal. "Here's Your Sign."

Sora groaned for the third time in ten minutes and lay back against the bed, causing the mattress to tremble with impact. "You're mean."

"You are too." I approached him quietly, forcing my eyes to stay normal so I didn't give away my intentions. "But I'm still gonna miss you."

There was a flash of motion and I had him up in the air, my arms around his skinny waist as he squirmed and laughed. I relished that moment during which he was in my arms, our bodies so close and I could smell the coconut scent of his hair.

"Boys, settle down."

Aw, Dad, _why_?

A bit grudgingly, I let Sora down next to the largest bag I owned. Feeling it necessary to explain my actions for some reason, I punctuated it with a quick, "That one's yours."

He stuck his tongue out at me impishly. "You wish."

I watched without much interest as Dad walked in with Mom following close behind, obviously intent on fixing every physical aspect of her husband that it was in her power to control. Obsessive-compulsive, I guess.

"Be nice to your aunt, dear," she told me with a harsh look, and I wondered whether she could read minds.

"I know, Mom," I replied with a sigh.

But she didn't stop there. "Mind your manners, look both ways before you cross the street, don't lose your plane ticket—"

"I know, Mom!" I repeated maybe a bit too heatedly. "I've been through all this before," I added in a less angered tone. I absolutely hated it when she treated me like I was five. I was almost as tall as Dad now, and I was more than capable of taking care of myself.

I expected her to get mad at me or something, but she didn't. Instead she smiled, and I could almost see my childhood self reflected in her eyes. "That's right. You've grown up already," she replied wistfully, running a hand through my hair. "I keep forgetting—it seems like just yesterday you were slipping into other people's cars."

A wry smile played about my lips as I remembered that particular occurrence. Mom and Dad both been overwhelmingly worried until I was safe and sound in their arms again, at which time they decided to impose limits on my freedom. I stopped having so much time to myself, and I learned my lesson. I shouldn't get into other people's cars. Unless I'm absolutely sure I can do it without getting caught somehow.

"He still does," I heard Sora remark from beside me, and I shoved him playfully. He shoved back and we almost started fighting, but Mom stopped us with several sharp words.

"Boys," she muttered softly, combing my hair back into place.

"Aunt Muffy's not going to be there when you get off the plane, so you'll have to catch the bus on your own," Dad was explaining. That was the only new thing about this trip—that I would have to ride by myself to and from the house, but that was no big deal. "You know where she lives, so you know which stop to get off."

I nodded. "The fifth from the airport," I repeated to him, watching him nod also. I glanced over at Sora long enough to see that Mom had taken a comb to his hair—never a good idea—and felt a pang of sympathy for him as he grimaced.

"Be careful," Dad continued, straightening his already straight tie. "It's a big city, and there are all kinds of people lurking on a street corner. You know what to do if someone grabs you, right?"

"Scream," I provided. "Thrash wildly. Try to hurt him."

"Right. But if he puts you in any danger, use caution so he doesn't hurt you."

"I know, Dad."

"All right. There should be a porter to help you with your baggage when you go to the bus, so—"

"Baggage claim!" Mom interrupted suddenly, whirling and holding us at comb point. "You know what your baggage looks like, don't you?"

I groaned, rolling my eyes, and gestured plaintively to the tulips. How in the world could I forget the tulips?

"She's just worried, son," Dad put in, and moments later I wished he hadn't. "I mean you've got, what, your CD player, your Gameboy, your iPod, all of that in there. That stuff costs money, remember."

"I know, Dad," I said quickly, glancing at Mom and looking away. It was no use. Her hand was already extended pointedly, and her eyes ordered me to hand over my precious electronic devices. Trying to look sincere, I pointed to the big bag next to Sora. "They're all wedged between my socks and the alarm clock."

Mom's eyes softened then, either because I would be away or because she remembered how messy I was when it came to packing, I don't know. "All right then, dear," she said in that same, reminiscent voice. "Just be careful with it, and don't you dare lose your luggage," she added in an iron tone.

"I won't, Mom," I told her, and leaned over long enough for her to land a motherly kiss on my cheek.

"In that case, we'd better get going," Dad stated, leaning down and picking up one of the larger bags. I started for one of the lighter ones—no need to strain my muscles, after all—but I heard Sora grunt suddenly as he let the largest bag slide to the floor. I saw him rub his spine, grimacing, and then he turned an accusing look on me. "You'd better double check, Riku. I think you forgot the kitchen sink."

"Hey, now," I told him in a warning tone, slinging the two lightest bags around my shoulders, "I could've packed the laptop, but I didn't. I was thinking of you and your skinny spine."

"Shut your face, Riku!"

I smiled inwardly at the pout on his face again, those deep blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully in the direction of the laptop. "I'm getting it when you die."

"Fine." Small price to pay for his happiness. "Too bad I'm not gonna die."

We struggled downstairs with the heavy baggage. Ah, no—let me rephrase that. Sora and Dad struggled downstairs with the heavy baggage while Mom and I walked ahead quite easily. I chucked the two bags into the trunk and went back to hug Mom goodbye, since she was looking like she wanted to come but I knew she couldn't because she had her day all perfectly segmented out. "Don't mess up your schedule for me, Mom," I told her, smiling. "I'll see you in a month."

"Be careful, dear."

"I will."

I plopped down in the passenger seat, regretting it a moment later when I realized I could have sat with Sora. And he wasn't going to let me forget it, I realized when he kicked the seat sourly. "Stop it," I told him, sorely tempted to smack him in the head. I heard the engine rev up as Dad started the car, and the road started flickering by. I waved to Mom.

"I'm really gonna miss you, Riku," Sora stated in reply after a thoughtful silence. I could tell from his voice that he was pouting again, but the words were warm with compassion. "Kairi's gonna miss you, too," he added, obviously looking for reasons for me to stay behind, "and Tidus and Wakka and probably Selphie. But I'm gonna miss you like hell."

"Language," from Dad.

"Sorry, sir," Sora replied grudgingly. "I'm gonna really, really, really miss you."

"I can't stay home, Sora," I reminded him, even though right then I wanted to. I really wanted to stay behind and be with him, or let him come along. But it warmed my heart that he would miss me. At least Kairi hadn't torn apart our relationship completely. Oh—right. That never happened. I tried to focus.

Dad started talking about something, but his voice was clearly geared toward Sora, so I tuned out almost automatically. Instead I turned my eyes on the passing scenery, watching the wide expanse of sea pass us by as we drove over the bridge. Faintly in the distance, I could see the paopu island, alone and forlorn. I had a sudden inclination to go to it, to pick up one of the two wooden swords and challenge Sora to a duel. As usual. As always.

I drummed my fingers absently along the brown interior of the car door, which was softening with age and use. It occurred to me that I once sat in the car doing the same thing, feeling my thin, frail fingers pressing against it while I knelt on the seat. I looked up and right through the window of the car next to ours, so close I could have reached out to bang on the other door. In that car I saw two bright blue eyes for only an instant before they turned to look away. I pressed my face against the window, willing that stranger to look at me again. Those eyes suddenly seemed to sense that they were being watched and turned to the window again, catching mine and holding. They blinked once and then stared, brimming with their own special light in the darkness.

Well, I couldn't leave it at that. So I opened the door as quietly as possible, listening to Mom and Dad talk about numbers obliviously. The sliding door closed almost soundlessly behind me, and I spoke with him. His name was Sora—a pretty name, I thought. Sounded a bit like a girl's name. But I didn't say that, knowing those blue eyes would fill with pain if I did. And me? I was Riku, of course.

Time passed too quickly for comfort, and then he looked up, alerting me that his mother was returning and he had to leave. Ah, but he was my treasure now. I wasn't going to let those gleaming sapphires out of my sight, at least until I knew where he lived so I could go there anytime. Being a devious little boy, I decided to play the same trick I had only a few months ago, and slipped behind him, putting on the seatbelt like a good child. I heard him protest once, but the car started almost immediately after that.

A strange feeling curdled in the pit of my stomach as I felt the car move out onto the road. I almost wanted to sit up and cry out, give it all up, because in my heart I was afraid. I was afraid we would go somewhere completely different, and I'd be lost out there all alone. But those sapphire eyes were worth it. They were worth anything, I decided. Even if Mom and Dad were…a little…a bit…angry when I…ahhh…

"Kah—chu!"

I rubbed my nose, jerked suddenly and jarringly back into the present. "Bless you," Sora said absently, although he sounded strangely subdued. Dad must have said something to him about Aunt Muffy. Her movements were slowing, I'd noticed over the past few visits, and her limbs shook sometimes when she had to pick things up. This was probably the last time I would get to see her, according to Dad. And, I thought to myself sadly, it wouldn't be enough after that.

The car rolled smoothly into the parking lot, and we stepped out as Dad clicked the keypad to open the trunk. I started around to it, but Sora got to it before I did.

"GAWSHAMIT!"

Ironically enough, the bag that landed on Sora's foot was the same one he'd tried to carry. But, of course, it was hard to tell these things apart. I was at his side moments later, since I knew how much that thing weighed, and I worried. "Did you break anything?" I asked him, helping him get it off his foot.

"No, I'm okay." There was a bit of confusion in his eyes when he looked at me. I wondered vaguely why that was, but the situation was beginning to strike me as humorous, so I turned away before I hurt his feelings.

We waited in line for a long while, chatting mildly and discussing words that sounded faintly like curses. "When are you going to schmuck Kairi?" I asked him once, grinning.

"I'll schmuck you!" he threatened, raising one of the bags in preparation to swing it at my head. The pout was on his lips again, and there was even a slight blush on his cheeks. On the whole, he looked so cute I wanted to grab him and squeeze him until his little eyes popped out. Scary as that sounds.

Dad finished up and Sora wandered off somewhere. I went to one of the shops and requested a jelly roll. Jelly rolls are awesome things. Because they had a new paopu flavor—and I'm fond of the things—I requested that, and then looked for Sora. He was sitting over by a garbage can, looking troubled, so I quickly bought a milkshake and approached him. "Thirsty?" I asked, offering him the thick drink. He blinked up at me for a moment, his eyes still glazed over with thought, but then he saw the milkshake and bolted upright enthusiastically.

I sat down next to him, munching on the paopu jelly roll. It was artificially flavored, so it wasn't as good as the real thing, but it was pleasantly mild in the stead of the usual tangy taste. The question came to mind again as I weighed it in my hand, looking at the sugary inside. When do I ask him? I thought I'd made it obvious in the few days before our adventure that never happened, but Sora's skull was clearly a tough one to pierce when it came to that sort of thing. Unless he thought I meant Kairi, I mused. I had been pretty ambiguous on the subject, and there was a reason for that. I hadn't wanted to get hurt. If only I hadn't gotten so mad, blindly attacking him and blaming him for replacing me. But I hated the idea of being replaced!

"Riku," he said suddenly, and I returned to reality and the fact that none of that had happened so I still had a chance. I turned to look at him, blinking curiously. "Remember the dream I told you about?"

I hesitated, a smirk crawling up my face. "The one where your pancake was trying to eat you?"

"No! The other one," he replied, frowning. "The one with the doors."

Ah. Right. I looked away, up at the lights of the large room. Those doors. That dream. Sora had remembered a few things for some reason, but I had told them they were only a dream. A simple nightmare, about some child's story of darkness and light. Nothing that happened was real. And it was partially true, now that the entire journey had been erased from history. Namine had done that much.

"I'm worried. That dream was just so real, and I don't want…" I chanced to look at him and saw that his eyes were on his hands, twisting together in his lap nervously. "…I don't want anything to happen to you."

A black fear darted across my heart then, and I realized. What if it happened again? What if the Heartless came back while I was away, and took my Sora from me? I pulled one leg to me, staring at the ground and taking in the tiles. Black and white tiles. Light and darkness. One can be only if the other is, and both cease to exist the moment one is gone. Meaning what? That the Heartless would always be there? I sighed, wiping a crumb from my face. "It was just a dream. Only a dream," I said as much to him as to myself. "Nothing like that would ever _really_ happen, Sora. I'll be okay." But you might not. And what would I do if that happened?

He sighed as well, sounding a bit frustrated, and I felt the prickly strands of hair against my skin as he leaned his head against my shoulder. My first instinct was to stiffen nervously, but I quelled it as best I could, leaning close to him as well. I needed very badly to wrap my arms around him at that moment, pull him close to me and stop time somehow so that moment would never end. But I couldn't do that. Not to him. He wouldn't understand if I moved too quickly, and he probably wouldn't…he wouldn't accept it, anyway.

"It can't come out if you chew on the straw," I said then, not really sure why I did. It seemed to violate some sanctity in the silence between us.

He shook the cup so that the straw struck against the sides hollowly. " 'S empty," he told me, chucking it into the trash. It's empty. A sudden feeling of anxiety fell over me, and I knew that time was running out. Water was seeping through my hands at an alarming rate, so I needed to do something. I needed to say something before it ended.

"I'll be fine," I promised, even though my voice sounded dead in my ears. "I wish you wouldn't worry, Sora. Then you make me feel bad." You make me worry about you.

The close feeling vanished as his head came away from my shoulder and he grinned at me, that awkward, goofy grin that I'd seen so little of during the Ordeal. "Sorry, Riku," he apologized, cocking his head to one side adorably. "I'll try not to be so pessimistic." It was then that I realized that the grin didn't have its usual, natural feeling. But I was glad he decided to make an effort, for me and no one else.

"That's right," I told him, smiling back. The boy was infectious in his emotions. "I need you optimistic, all the time!" I added in a largely genuine voice, punching him in the shoulder. I expected him to punch me back, or shove me, or something, but I hadn't expected he would reach out to touch one of my long silver bangs. His blue eyes were slightly wider than usual in a strange fascination as he twirled it about his fingers, sending pleasurable sensations down the ends. And he didn't stop with just that one, so I was suddenly inclined to close my eyes against the feeling. But then I looked up and saw a strange woman looking at us, short, with brown hair and narrowed green eyes. Her mouth was twisted into a sneer at seeing us sitting so close together, her eyes filled with hatred. If Sora ever saw that look on her face, I wasn't sure what I would do to her. To avoid his pain, I quickly ended it.

"People're gonna think weird thoughts."

I hated the words the moment they were out of my mouth, if only because a strange look passed over his eyes and he pulled away quickly, a faint blush on his cheeks. I regretted having said anything, and I was going to remedy it right then. I was going to tell him, finally. Everything. I turned to him, opening my mouth to speak.

"Okay, son. Time to get to the gate."

Fate shot down my every desire and hope in those words as Dad walked up to us. I couldn't confess _now_, not in front of him, but I had to do something. I had to tell Sora that…that…

"I'm gonna be sitting there for an hour and a half!" I protested quickly. "Can't I stay with Sora for just a little longer?" I heard the wheedling tone in my voice and hated it, but there was nothing I could do. I had to tell him.

Dad's gray eyebrows drew together pointedly. "They're likely to reschedule. From what I've heard, the plane's making an early return. I don't want you to miss your flight."

Screw the flight. But I sighed, getting to my feet. Maybe I should go to the bathroom, I mused. Get Sora to follow me and tell him then. But who knew what kind of weirdos would hear that in the bathroom? I turned a yearning look on Sora, and noticed the dread on his face. He probably wasn't looking forward to our separation. But at least he'd be with Kairi, I thought bitterly. He'd have precious, perfect, Princess Kairi all to himself.

"This is as far as we can go," Dad explained, and there was something strange in his words. They echoed hollowly throughout my mind. Something was wrong. "I didn't get gate passes this time, so you'll have to go the rest of the way on your own."

_You'll have to go the rest of the way on your own._

My ears hummed with something strange and I looked at him blankly, trying to divine from his expression what was going on. But he kept talking, cocking his head to one side concernedly. "You won't get lost, now, will you?"

"I know the way, Dad." The words fell heavily from my lips. I was leaving. But where was I going? To Aunt Muffy's? For some reason that didn't seem right.

"All right, then." And the blessed words yanked everything back to normal. "You're at Gate 15."

"Right."

"You're coming home on flight four-thirty-seven, nine-thirty P.M. sharp."

"Gotcha."

"Don't lose this ticket."

"Nope."

Dad nodded, patting me on the back in a fatherly manner. "I'll see you in a month, son. Remember to call."

"I will." I said it almost absently. Of course I would call. I always called.

I turned to Sora as Dad seemed to retreat, almost going so far as to leave us alone. But Sora wasn't there—he had run forward and locked his arms around me, his face buried in my chest. "I'm gonna miss you so much, Riku," he told me in a muffled voice before he turned to look up at me. I relaxed, putting my arms around him. "You get back here safe, okay?" he asked, his voice starting to tremble.

"You know I will, Sora. Somebody's gotta take care of you." I smiled and moved one hand to his head, letting my fingers slip through that messy brown hair. God, don't let this moment ever end. "I'm coming back," I said almost in a whisper. "I promise."

I squeezed him tight, feeling my own ribcage creak under his arms, and it was almost as if we were trying to squeeze every bit of each other to ourselves, to somehow leave some sort of residue. But it was over far too soon, and we drew away. I felt like part of me had been left with him, but I couldn't stay to retrieve it. Feeling a hard lump in my throat, I walked away, blinking back tears. I stopped before I was out of view, smirking back at them like none of it mattered, and waved once. My footsteps heavy, I walked on to the gate alone.

**XI**

The charter bus was crowded and noisy, but there was a porter who helped me get my luggage put away and then helped me get it out again when I got off on Aunt Muffy's block. I walked up to the familiar house with the miniature stone gargoyle seated on a shelf above the door, knocking with the slightly scratched brass knocker. Aunt Muffy didn't look much older, but I wouldn't let her carry in the big bags, handing her only the two light ones.

I got set up in my usual room, one with a view of the street. I was always talking about it with a simpering smile, since Mom and Dad had a lovely view of an open dumpster. But now they couldn't come, so it was a bit awkward being with her all by myself.

The weeks seemed to fly by as we went out to eat, to ball games, and to generally have fun. I grew closer to Aunt Muffy, as I had two years ago when I went alone, but I still missed Sora terribly. Never in all the times we called one another was there enough time for me to tell him what I needed to. My mood began to worsen, and I finally I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling dizzy and nauseated, with a major case of the runs. Aunt Muffy heard me in the bathroom and at once scuttled around getting things ready, so that I had a warm bowl of soup and then rest. I was just falling back to nice, thoughtless sleep when—

RING

Oh, God. Why did somebody have to call _now_?

RING

I hoped fervently that Aunt Muffy would get it, but she was probably in the kitchen where it was hard for her to hear the phone.

RING

Fine. I got up groggily and walked to the phone sitting on the table across from me. The answering machine clicked on, but I picked up anyway.

"Nice time to call a guy," I muttered sourly, not really caring who it was until I heard the voice on the other end.

"Huh? What's going on?" Sora. Clueless as always.

"Nothing, it's just too early," I replied, glancing at the digital clock. Like magic, my voice had returned to normal, and I wasn't mad at him. I couldn't be. He was Sora.

I heard the sound of flesh on flesh, and imagined that Sora had probably smacked himself in the head. "Sorry."

"No big. I'm a little cranky because I've been sick."

"Are you okay?"

I couldn't resist. "Yep. Couldn't be better."

Sora groaned loudly. "You're not dying or anything, are you?" he asked sullenly.

"No, minor case of nausea." I decided not to mention the rest. "Aunt Muffy's been treating me like an atom bomb."

"Riku?" I heard quietly from the doorway, and I looked up to see that Aunt Muffy had come in with a glass of water. "Are you sure you're well enough to walk around? You're not feeling bad, like you're going to throw up, are you?"

"She'll want me to get off the phone—it's okay, I'm just talking to Sora," I explained to her in a louder voice, putting a hand over the mouthpiece. She frowned and put a hand to her ear. "I'm talking to Sora," I repeated, and she hesitated, but nodded and put the glass on the dresser before leaving. "Geez," I muttered, even though I felt bad for it a moment later. "Sorry 'bout that. Is everything okay?" Maybe I had imagined it, but there had been a stiff tone to Sora's voice.

There was a pause. "Yeah." I wanted to ask him again, but he pressed on. "Kairi wanted to talk to me today."

"Oh?" I forced interest into my voice, even though I would rather have shouted at him to get away from her. Don't let her get to his heart, because he was mine!

"She wants to know where our relationship is going."

My heart sank, but I whooped exuberantly all the same. "Sora's got a girl!" I forced a smile, knowing that would change the sound of my voice. "What'd you say?"

"I said I needed to think about it." Sora's voice sounded profoundly disinterested.

"You _idiot_!" I said, and I knew I was talking to myself. Tears were forming in the corners of my eyes, but I didn't let them into my voice. "You should've just said yes." Yes, I should have. I should have just told him. I should have said so right from the beginning, and then…then, maybe…

"Yeah, well…" Sora sounded undecided. "I don't think she's really my type. That and I don't want her…" My heart leapt. "…to mess up our friendship or anything."

Friendship. That's right. Just a friendship. I kept forgetting. I hesitated, not sure what to say at first, but then I laughed, trying to make it sound natural. "You don't have to worry about me, Sora," I assured him. "I don't mind if you get a girlfriend." Like hell I don't. "Really. I'm happy for you." About as happy as a bird with a cactus halfway up its ass.

"But I…"

Love you. But I love you. I waited for him to finish, but those two forlorn words hung in the air between us, digging into my heart like two tiny daggers. "Yes?" I pressed, berating myself for pushing him, but the damage was already done. I waited for those sweet words to fall upon my ears.

There was the sound of fabric rustling. "One more minute," I heard Sora call back to someone. "Listen, Riku," he continued, and the mood of the conversation changed abruptly. As he spoke, his words came faster until they tumbled over one another, like a dirty secret. "Mom hasn't been telling me, but I just listened in on her conversation, and apparently we're in debt and she might not be able to send me to college. We might…we might lose everything," he finished in a lost, broken voice.

I stopped thinking, letting the words zoom around in my head. First that, now this. It was hard for me to change gears. But Sora needed me right now, and I had to give him some sort of support. "It'll be okay, Sora," I promised after a moment. "I'll tell my folks when I get back, and we'll help you get back on your feet. You better think twice if you think I'm not gonna help you get to college—we're gonna be roommates, remember?" Yeah, roommates. And it might just go on from there, if Sora and I were the only ones behind the door when it locked. Then Kairi could never get in the way again. But I had a funny feeling that I would never get that chance. I tried to pinpoint the source of my concerns, but I couldn't seem to grasp it. Maybe the college wouldn't let us be roommates, I figured, and left it at that.

"Yeah. Okay." Sora's voice was immensely relieved. We said our goodbyes and he hung up, returning to his life with new hope. Because I wouldn't let him sink below a mountain of debt—he was going to college, even if _I_ had to go into debt to make it happen.

I stared at the phone for a few moments before I hung up. Oh, Sora. If I could only tell you.

**XI**

It seemed like it was shortly after that that I was packing, talking to Sora on the mobile phone as I did so. He had just mumbled something incoherent while I was putting away a few shirts, and I sprouted a sudden question. After all, it had been a month, and I still cared about her. Sort of. In a way. "I guess Kairi's still mad. How is she, anyway?"

Silence.

I waited quite a bit, wondering what in the world Sora could be doing if he ignored that question. "Sora!"

"Wha—?" Oh. He was probably just daydreaming. "Sorry, Riku. What were you saying?"

"I asked you about Kairi," I repeated, sniffing at the underarm of one of my used shirts and making a face. I threw it into the laundry pile. "Is she doing okay? Not still upset about the little mishap in January?" I smirked as I stepped over some other stuff and started for the dresser again. On an unrelated note, Mom would faint if she saw the room in this state.

"I think she's forgotten all about it."

Like hell. Can't fool me, Sora.

"When are you coming home, Riku?" he asked wistfully.

I laughed, sprawling into a chair and leaning against the cushions. "Tomorrow, Sora. I already told you that," I reminded him, thinking with starry eyes to the day when I arrived and we were together again. And then, I realized, then I would tell him.

"That's too long," Sora groaned.

"It'll be okay," I told him, smiling. "I miss you, too, but I'll be there soon."

"Soon?" His voice was faintly muffled.

"Tomorrow, Sora! Focus!"

I heard him laughing into what sounded very much like his pillow.

Aunt Muffy called to me with a comment about the time. "I have to go now, Sora," I explained, feeling a sigh build up and billow out of my mouth. A sudden feeling built up in me, and I wanted to say it. I wanted so badly to say it, but I didn't. "I'll be thinking of you," was all I could manage, and I cursed my own weakness. Why couldn't I just tell him? "Bye."

"Bye. See you tomorrow."

Click.

It occurred to me then that I hadn't told him I would see him tomorrow. For some reason it seemed very important that I say it, but it was just three words. Three little, insignificant words that paled in comparison to the ones I wanted to say.

**XI**

I hummed calmly to myself as I sat on the bus, tapping my fingers against the seat in front of me. Aunt Muffy had bid me adieu quite a while ago, so I was bored, and waited anxiously to be dropped off at the airport. It wasn't until I went up to the bus driver and asked how many stops since I got on that I got the scare. "The seventh stop?" I asked.

"You were supposed to get off at the fifth, weren't you?" the bus driver asked, looking worried. Aunt Muffy had told him to keep an eye on me. "I can drive you back after my rounds, but I'm afraid you'll miss your flight."

"Just let me off, I can walk," I told him. "It's only a few blocks, so I can get directions."

"With all that baggage?"

"I'll be okay," I assured him. "Thanks for the ride," I added as I swung down the steps and helped the porter get my bags out. Damn, if I missed the flight! I didn't want to hold off seeing Sora any longer. It had been a month already, and I had yet to tell him. I'd make it up to him, I decided. I'd buy a big dinner out in some fancy restaurant, with candles and nice seafood like he loved, and then I'd tell him. And it'd be perfect, just us two. No Kairi, no anyone. Just me. Just Sora.

Those were the thoughts that kept me going as I struggled down the sidewalk toward the airport, five bags hanging off me as my muscles began to burn with fatigue. If only I had asked to borrow the porter or something—he could probably catch a bus to the bus station, and I could pay him.

"Excuse me, sir," I said to a small man who was walking in the same direction. "Could you…could you help me carry these to the airport?" I asked, panting and pointing in the direction of the large building. It wasn't that far away, but I was still worried I'd get stuck and miss my flight.

The man looked me up and down; smiled; nodded. Speaking in a language I couldn't understand, he gestured to the alleyway, where his hulking companion was lurking. I looked from one to the other with apprehension. Was the hulking guy going to carry the bags? And who were these people? What language was that?

I stopped thinking this as the first man, a small, mousy guy with greasy black hair, took a fervent survey of the empty sidewalk—there were mainly broken down buildings on this street, I realized—and made a quick motion. The bigger man's fist collided with my head, sending me crashing to the ground. I tried to stand, dazed, but the smaller man dug his heel into my back, barking commands to the other man. Tough cords bit into my wrists as he tied my hands behind my back, still talking to me almost soothingly. I opened my mouth to scream, but then I felt something cold and circular digging into the back of my neck. A gun loaded.

Oh my God.

The bigger man jerked me roughly to my feet and over to a car, pulling open the trunk long enough to shove me inside. I could hear the sounds of the smaller man pillaging my luggage as the large man gagged me with a sour-tasting gray cloth. Then the lid of the trunk closed, and I was plunged into darkness. I started struggling, trying to pry the cords from around my wrists, but I only succeeded at hurting myself. All too soon, I felt the car bounce with the added weight and the doors slammed shut.

And I was afraid. I was more afraid than I wanted to admit, ever. I was the strong one, right? The one with the good looks and the unusually buff body. I certainly looked like I could take care of whatever life threw at me. But for possibly the first time in my life, I started wishing there was someone there to protect me.

We drove for what felt like forever, taking several twists and turns that sent me into the walls of the trunk. I was battered and bruised, and my bound hands began to throb with pain. It occurred to me to kick at the side of the trunk, but my legs were squeezed together so tightly in the small space that it wasn't long before they cramped and grew sore.

When the trunk finally opened, it was growing dark. The big man pulled me out, forcing me to stand on my aching legs, and marched me into the forested area around the dirt road. I struggled and tried to protest, but he punched me harshly in the mouth, splitting open my lip. We came to a dirt clearing, where a shovel was leaning against a tree beside a shallow hole in the ground. My stomach writhed when I saw it—I knew what that hole was for.

Now I didn't have anything to lose. I struggled and tried to run, only to have the bigger man knock me down and kick me until I stopped. The smaller man ran over with the gun, barking orders again, and they forced me to stand in front of the hole. Cold shock ran down my spine, much like the rivulets of blood from my various scratches. This was it, I realized. The end of the road, and it was such a short one. Tears started in my eyes and a sob came to my lips unbidden. I wanted to run, but they were both faster than I was. I could have cast a spell, only I never learned them—all just a memory.

Sora, I thought fervently as I heard the gun click. Sora, Sora, Sora, Sora, Sora. My beautiful Sora. My Sora. I hope you can go on, Sora, don't linger on this. It won't do any good. Sora, I'm so afraid, I wish I could have been with you for longer. My body began to shake with grief. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. Sora, I just hope you can find someone to…to replace me.

I didn't hear the first shot, but I felt the bullet when it bit hatefully into my shoulder. I cried out sharply and the smaller man yelled to silence me. He muttered something that sounded like a curse and readied the gun again.

My heart was beating loudly in my ears, frightening me with the thought of it stopping for good. I was even more afraid now, numb with paralyzing fear. But I had to stay strong. I had to get through this, alive or dead, and either way I would be with Sora at the end of it. Sora, I'm sorry, I thought, hoping my words would somehow reach him. I know someone has to take care of you, and I hope someone does. But I can't anymore. So I'm sorry I broke my promise, Sora. I'm sorry I left you all alone, but there's nothing I can do. I hope you find happiness, Sora, and I never told you. I meant to tell you, so many times, but I just couldn't. I know what I said on the phone to you—the last thing I will ever say to you. But it wasn't what I should have said. I should have said—

The second shot went through my back—I think it may have pierced my heart. _The sacrifice for love._ Time slowed and I fell forward. The ground took forever to reach me, and white light flashed before my eyes as my head hit the dirt solidly. My heart, beating so fast a little while ago, was fluttering feebly. I clung desperately to life. _Just one more time…let me see him one more time! I can't break my promise…!_ But already my heart was slowing, my thoughts turned foggy…it was harder and harder to fight it, almost like I was slipping into a dream that would never end…

A sudden sense of floating took over as the feeling left my body. I looked down once, seeing the poor boy dead in the dirt as the killers began to bury him, and then turned away from the sight. I watched it all happen—Sora crying, Sora in pain. So many times, Sora—you'll never know how many times I wanted so badly to reach out to you, comfort you, tell you that everything would be okay. It was like I was right there, and I could've helped you if only I was still alive. If only I hadn't _died_—and suddenly I was back home, just once more. _I promised._ I looked at you, watched you calling my name above the howl of a storm as the tears ran down your face. And I smiled. I smiled because I knew what I should have said, and because I think you know it now, too.

I am with you always, Sora.

I love you.


End file.
